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SEYMOUR  DURST 


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Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
Gift  of  Seymour  B.  Durst  Old  York  Library  ' 


f 


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NEW  YORK 


nr 


Sunlight  and  Gaslight. 


A  WORK  DESCRIPTIVE  OF  THE 


GREAT  AMERICAN  METROPOLIS. 


m  HIGH  AND  LOW  LIFE;  ITS  SPLENDORS  AND  MISERIES;  ITS  VIRTUEi 
AND  VICES;    ITS  GORGEOUS  PALACES  AND  DARK  HOMES  OF 
POVERTY  AND  CRIME;    ITS  PUBLIC   MEN,  POLITI- 
CIANS, ADVENTURERS ;    ITS  CHARITIES, 
FRAUDS,  MYSTERIES,  ETC.,  ETC. 


BY  JAMES  D.  McCABE, 

mnmuik  of  "paris  by  sunlight  and  gaslight,"  "pictorial  history  of  THK  WORLO," 

"CBNTBNNIAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES,"  "CROSS  AND  CROWN,"  ETC 


flLLUSTRATED  WITH  FINE  FULL-PAGE  AND  OTHER  ENGRAVINGa 


UNION  PUBLISHING  HOUSE, 
New  York  City. 


Copyiigl^bjr 
DOUGLASS  BROTHSaS. 


PREFACE. 


What  Paris  is  to  the  Frenchman,  or  London  to  the  Briton,  NeV 
York  is  to  the  American.  It  is  not  only  the  Great  Metropolis  of 
the  New  World,  but  it  is  the  chief  attraction  upon  this  continent, 
the  great  centre  to  which  our  people  resort  for  business  and  plea- 
sure, and  as  such,  is  a  source  of  never-failing  interest. 

This  being  the  case,  it  is  natural  that  every  American  should  de- 
sire to  visit  New  York,  to  see  the  city  for  himself,  behold  its  beau- 
ties, its  wonderful  sights,  and  participate  in  the  pleasures  which  are 
to  be  enjoyed  only  in  the  Metropolis.  Thousands  avail  themselves 
of  this  privilege  every  year ;  but  the  great  mass  of  our  people  kno^r 
our  chief  city  only  by  the  descriptions  of  their  friends,  and  the  brief 
accounts  of  its  sights  and  scenes  which  occur  from  time  to  time  in 
'the  newspapers  of  the  day.  Even  those  who  visit  the  city  bring 
away  but  a  superficial  knowledge  of  it,  as  to  knoiv  New  York  re- 
quires years  of  constant  study  and  investigation.  Strangers  see  only 
the  surface ;  they  cannot  penetrate  into  its  inner  life,  and  examine 
the  countless  influences  at  work  every  day  in  shaping  the  destiny 
of  the  beautiful  city.  Few,  even  of  the  residents  of  the  Metropolis, 
have  either  the  time  or  the  means  for  such  investigations.  Few 
have  a  correct  idea  of  the  terrible  romance  and  hard  reality  of  the 
daily  lives  of  a  vast  portion  of  the  dwellers  in  New  York,  or  of  the 
splendor  and  luxury  of  the  wealthier  classes. 

One  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  New  York  is  the  rapidity  with 
which  changes  occur  in  it.  Those  who  were  familiar  with  the  city 
in  the  past  will  find  it  new  to  them  now.  The  march  of  progress 
and  improvement  presses  on  with  giant  strides,  and  the  city  of 
to-day  is  widely  separated  from  the  city  of  a  few  years  ago.  Only 
one  who  has  devoted  himself  to  watching  its  onward  career,  either 
in  prosperity  and  magnificence  or  in  misery  and  crime,  can  form 
any  idea  of  the  magnitude  and  character  of  the  wonderful  changes 
of  the  past  ten  years. 

The  volume  now  offered  to  the  reader  aims  to  be  a  faithful  and 
graphic  picture  of  the  New  York  of  to-day,  and  to  give,  in  life-like 

iii 


IT 


PREFACE. 


colors,  views  of  its  magnificent  streets  and  buildings,  its  busy, 
bustling  crowds,  its  rushing  elevated  trains,  its  countless  sights,  its 
romance,  its  mystery,  its  nobler  and  better  efforts  in  the  cause  of 
humanity,  its  dark  crimes,  and  terrible  tragedies.  In  short,  the 
work  endeavors  to  hold  up  to  the  reader  a  faithful  mirror,  in  which 
shall  pass  all  the  varied  scenes  that  transpire  in  New  York,  by  sun- 
light and  by  gaslight.  To  those  who  have  seen  the  great  city,  the 
work  is  offered  as  a  means  of  recalling  some  of  the  pleasantest  ex- 
periences of  their  lives ;  while  to  the  still  larger  class  who  have 
never  enjoyed  this  pleasure,  it  is  hoped  that  it  will  be  the  medium 
of  their  acquiring  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  New  York  in  the 
quiet  of  their  own  homes,  and  without  the  expense  or  fatigue  of  a 
journey. 

This  volume  is  not  a  work  of  fiction,  but  a  narrative  of  well  au- 
thenticated, though  often  startling  facts.  The  darker  sides  of  New 
York  life  are  shown  in  their  true  colors,  and  without  any  effort  to 
tone  them  down.  Foul  blots  are  to  be  found  upon  the  life  of  the 
great  city.  Sin,  vice,  crime  and  shame  are  terrible  realities  there, 
and  they  have  been  presented  here  as  they  actually  exist. 

Throughout  the  work,  the  aim  of  the  author  has  been  to  warn 
those  who  wish  to  see  for  thenjselves  the  darker  side  of  city  life,  of 
the  dangers  attending  such  undertakings.  A  man  who  seeks  the 
haunts  of  vice  and  crime  in  New  York  takes  his  life  in  his  hand,  ex- 
poses himself  to  dangers  of  the  most  real  kind,  and  deserves  all  the 
harm  that  may  come  to  him  in  his  quest  of  knowledge.  Enough  is 
told  in  this  volume  to  satisfy  legitimate  curiosity,  and  to  convince 
the  reader  that  the  only  path  of  safety  in  New  York  is  to  avoid  all 
places  of  doubtful  repute.  The  city  is  bright  and  beautiful  enough 
to  occupy  all  one's  tim.e  with  its  wonderful  sights  and  innocent  plea- 
sures. To  venture  under  the  shadow,  is  to  court  danger  in  all  its  forms. 
No  matter  how  wise  in  his  own  conceit "  a  stranger  may  be,  he  is 
but  a  child  in  the  hands  of  the  disreputable  classes  of  the  great  city. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  work  the  author  has  drawn  freely  upon 
his  own  experience,  the  result  of  a  long  and  intimate  acquaintance 
with  all  the  various  phases  of  New  York  life.  He  ventures  to  hope 
that  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  subject  will  recognize  the  truth- 
fulness of  the  statements  made,  and  that  the  book  may  prove  a 
source  of  pleasure  and  profit  to  all  who  may  honor  it  with  a  perusal. 

November  js/,  1882.  j.  d.  m'c. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRITIONS. 


BARTHOLDI'S    STATUE,    "LIBERTY   ENLIGHTENING    THE  WORLD," 
(Frontispiece) 

EVENING  POST  BUILDING  (Full  Page)   4, 

ODD  FELLOWS'  HALL   4^ 

NEW  YORK  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPANY'S  BUILDING   45 

DOMESTIC  SEWING  MACHINE  BUILDING  (Full  Page)   47 

TRIBUNE  BUILDING   48 

STAATS  ZEITUNG  BUILDING   49 

GRAND  CENTRAL  DEPOT  (Full  Page)  tofa,.e  6t 

PAVONIA  DOCKS.  JERSEY  CITY  (Full  Page)   9c 

BIRD'S  EYE  VIEW  OF  NEW  YORK  (Full  Page)   95 

BROADWAY,  LOOKING  NORTH  FROM  EXCHANGE  PLACE   ijft 

MUTUAL  LIFE  INSURANCE  BUILDING   13* 

ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCH  (Full  Page)   139 

BROADWAY,  AT  THE  POST  OFFICE  (Full  Page)   141 

LORD  AND  TAYLOR'S  DRY  GOODS  STORE  (Full  Page)  15c 

SWELL  TURNOUT  ON  FIFTH  AVENUE  (Full  Page)   173 

METROPOLITAN  ELEVATED  RAILWAY  STATION,  SIXTH  AVENUE  AND 

TWENTY-THIRD  STREET  (Full  Page)  to/ace  175 

ELEVATED  RAILROAD,  CHATHAM  SQUARE  (Full  Page)  to  face  183 

COENTIES  SLIP  (Full  Page)  tafar.e  191 

THE  THIRD  AVENUE  RAILROAD  DEPOT   241 

MASONIC  TEMPLE,  SIXTH  AVENUE  AND  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET  253 

METROPOLITAN  ELEVATED  RAILROAD,  SIXTH  AVENUE  AND  FOUR- 
TEENTH STREET  (Full  Page)  to  face  255 

COACHING  DAY  IN  CENTRAL  PARK  (Full  Page)  26* 

COOPER  INSTITUTE  AND  ELEVATED  RAILROAD,  THIRD  AVENUE  (Full 

Page)  to /oca  ztif 

"PLEASE  GIVE  ME  A  PENNY"   27: 

SCENE  ON  WEST  STREET  (Full  Page)     279 

CITY  HALL  AND  PARK  (Full  Page)  to/acg  297 

UNITED  STATES  SUB-TREASURY   294 

CUSTOM  HOUSE   301 

CUSTOM  HOUSE  INSPECTION  (Full  Page)   305 

STEINWAY  HALL   307 

COOPER  UNION   309 

NATIONAL  ACADEMY  OF  DESIGN   37a 

GRAND  CENTRAL  DEPOT,  FRONT  VIEW  (Full  Page)   317 

A  VETERAN  CALLER  AT  WORK  (Full  Page)   325 

A  CALLER  WHO  HAS  HAD  TOO  MUCH  PUNCH   327 

NEW  YORK  STOCK  EXCHANGE   335 

BELL  TELEPHONE  EXCHANGE  (Full  Page)  to/acg  331 

CUNARD  STEAMSHIP  "GALLIA"   361 

SOUND  STEAMER  BRISTOL  (Full  Page)  to/acf  361 

GRAND  SALCON,  SOUND  STEAMER  (Full  Page)   363 

COURTLANDT  AND  LIBERTY  STREET  FERRIES  (Full  Page)  ^...to/act  367 

AN  ATTEMPT  AT  SUICIDE  FOILED  (Full  Page)    ta  fitcs 


Vi  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAVONIA  AND  ERIE  RAILWAY  FERRY  (Full  Page)  409 

THL  TOMBS  4m 

SCENE  IN  A  POLICE  COURT  (Full  Page)  to  face  417 

LUDLOW  STREET  JAIL  419 

UNION  SQUARE,  AT  FOURTEENTH  STREET  (Full  Page)  to/ace  427 

MADISON  SQUARE  (Full  Page)  429 

VIEW  OF  THE  LAKE  FROM  THE  TERRACE  451 

THE  LOWER  TERRACE  IN  CENTRAL  PARK  453 

BRIDGE  ACROSS  THE  LAKE  (Full  Page)  455 

THE  OBELISK  (Full  Page)   463 

TRmiTY  CHURCH  (Full  Page)  471 

A  FANCY  BALL  AT  THE  BUCKINGHAM  PALACE  (Full  Page)  to  face  481 

A  WATER  STREET  DANCE  HOUSE  (Full  Page)  491 

JAV  GOULD  497 

THE  SIXTY-NINTH  REGIMENT  ARMORY  499 

THE  SEVENTH  REGIMENT  ARMORY  502 

WM.  K,  VANDERBILT  503 

RIVER  PIRATES  ESCAPING  FROM  THE  POLICE  (Full  Page)  519 

CREEDMOOR  RIFLE  RANGE  538 

TOO  MUCH  RUM  (Full  Page)  .'  531 

HENRY  BERGH  (Full  Page)  535 

BROOKLYN  BRIDGE  AND  EAST  RIVER  (Full  Page)  538 

SCENE  IN  A  BROADWAY  GAMBLING  HALL   544 

LOW  CLASS  GAMBLING  DEN  547 

THE  TUNNEL  UNDER  THE  HUDSON  RIVER   554 

A.  T.  STEWART  &  CO.'S  RETAIL  STORE  (Full  Page)  557 

TENEMENT  HOUSE  IN  BAXTER  STREET  (Full  Page)  to  face  56* 

JERRY  M'AULEY  564 

MRS  M'AULEY  567 

BOOTH'S  THEATRE  (Full  Page)  57i 

GRAND  OPERA  HOUSE  576 

THE  HOMES  OF  THE  POOR  (Full  Page)  58a 

SCENE  IN  THE  CHINESE  QUARTERS  (Full  Page)   to  face  585 

SHANTIES  IN  EIGHTH  AVENUE  (Full  Page)  5^7 

HOSPITAL  FOR  CATS  (Full  Page)  10 face  syi 

THE  EVENING  MAIL  BUILDING  600 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  GREAT  METROPOLIS. 


•BMBRAL  DESCRIPTION  OF  NEW  YORK  CITY — LOCATION— NATURAL  ADVANTAGES — COMMERCIAL 

ADVANTAGES — THE  STREETS  BUILDINGS  CLIMATE — HEALTHFULNESS  MORTALITY  RAPtD 

GROWTH    OF    THE    CITY  LOFTY    BUILDINGS — DESCRIPTION    OF  THE  MOST  NOTED  AND  THE 

HIGHEST  STRUCTURES  IN  THE  CITY— REASONS  FOR  BUILDING  SO  HIGH— LAND  CHEAP  UP 
STAIRS  33 

CHAPTER  n. 
THE  PEOPLE  OF  NEW  YORK. 

POPULATION  OF  NEW  YORK  IN  1870— THE  STATE  CENSUS  OF  1875— WHAT  CHANGES  IT  SHOWED— POPU- 
LATION IN  1880  POPULATION  AFFECTED  BY  THE  IMPROVEMENTS  IN  THE  LOWER  PART  OF  THB 

CITY  THE    MOST  DENSELY  SETTLED    PART  OF   NEW    YORK  THE   FLOATING  POPULATION  

STRANGERS  IN  NEW  YORK — FOREIGN  DISTRICTS-^COSMOPOLITAN  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PEOPLK 
 CHARACTERISTICS  OF  NEW  YORKERS — LACK  OF  PUBLIC  SPIRIT — INDIFFERENCE  TO  POLITI- 
CAL AFFAIRS — THE  RESULT — THE  RACE  FOR  WEALTH — HOW  BUSINESS  IS  DONE  IN  NEW  YORK- 
WEARING  OUT  BODY  AND  SOUL — A  PHILOSOPHICAL  MERCH.\NT — A  NEW  COMER'S  IMPRESSIONS 
— LIVING  TOO  FAST — NO  CHANCE  FOR  LAGGARDS — HOW  SUCCESS  IS  WON — MERIT  THE  TEST — 
NEW  YORK  FROM  A  MORAL  POINT  OF  VIEW — ITS  CHARITIES  AS'D  BENEVOLENCE — TOI  ERATION 

OF  OPINIONS  AND  BELIEFS  MENTAL  CULTURE  OF  THE   PEOPLE  WHAT  IT  COSTS  TO  LIVE  IN 

NEW  YORK  THB  RICH  AND  THE  MIDDLE  CLASSES — NEW  YORK  AS  A   PLACE  OF  RESIDENCE — 

ATTACHMENT  OF  THE  PEOPLE  TO  THE  CITY  51 

CHAPTER  111. 
THE  GROWTH  OF  NEW  YORK. 

RAPID  GROWTH  OF  NEW  YORK  DURING  THE  PAST  THIRTY-FIVE  YEARS — THE  FLUSH  TIMES  AFTER 
THB  WAR— EFFECTS  OF  THE  PANIC  OF  1873 — A  MOMENTARY  CHECK — RETURN  OF  PROS- 
PERITY— PROSPECTS  FOR  THE  FUTURE — INCREASE  IN  BUILDING  OPERATIONS — HOW  REAL 
ESTATE  APPRECIATES  IN  VALUE — THE  SECRET  OF  THE  GRE.\T  INCREASE  OF  WEALTH  IN  NEW 

YORK — FUTURE  CENTRES  OF   POPULATION — WHAT  NEW  YORK  WILL  BE  FIFTY  YEARS  HENCE  

A  GRAND  DESTINY  65 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  HARBOR  OF  NEW  YORK, 


WATURAI,  ADVANTAGES  OF  THE  HARBOR — THE  OUTER  AND  INNER  BAYS — EXCURSIONS— A  TRtT 

DOWN  THE  HARBOR  SCENES  ALONG  THE  ROUTE — THE  SHIPPING — THROUGH  THE  INNER  BAT 

—governor's    ISLAND — BEDLOE's   AND    ELLIS'  ISLANDS — BARTHOLDl'S    STATUE — LIBERTY 

ENLIGHTENING  THE  WORLD — THE  KILL  VAN  KULL — STATEN  ISLAND  THE  NARROWS — TMK 

FORTIFICATIONS  THE  OUTER  BAY  QUARANTINE  CONEY   ISLAND  SCENES   IN  THE  LOWBR 

BAY — SANDY  HOOK — OUT  TO  SEA — B.\CK  TO  NEW  YORK  W 

vii 


Vm  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 
SANDY  HOOK. 

OeSCIUPTION  OP  •'the  hook" — A  NOTED  LANDMARK — A  SANDY  WASTE— THE  COVE— THE  BBACth 

— THE  LIGHT-SHIPS — THE  LIFE  SAVING  STATION— SANDY  HOOK  LIGHTHOUSE — ITS  HISTOSV 
—THE  keeper's  house — WRECKS — IN  THE  LIGHT-TOWER — A  GRAND  VIEW — OCEAN  CEME- 
TERY— THE  FORTIFICATIONS — TESTING  THE  HEAVY  GUNS — THE  NORTH  LIGHT — THE  SYREN* 
— THE  TELEGRAPH  STAT/ON  '.        .         .         ,         ^  lO^ 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  N^:VERSINK  HIGHLANDS. 

SITUATION  OF  THE  HIGHLANDS— THE  SHREWSBURY  RIVER — RED  BANK — ORIGIN  OF  THE  NAMB 
OF  THE  HIGHLANDS — AS  SEEN  FROM  THE  SEA — THE  LIGHT  TOWERS —  A  MAGNIFICENT  LIGHT 
— ^VIEW  FROM  THE  TOWER — THE  PICTURES  IN  THE  LENSES — A  GLIMPSE  OF  FAIRY  LAN*"*  IIJ. 

CHAPTER  Vn. 
MUNICIPAL  GOVERNMENT. 

ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  CITY  GOVERNMENT — THE  MAYOR  AND  BOARD  OF  ALDERMEM— 7HB  COM» 
MISSIONERS — DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  VARIOUS  MUNICIPAL  DEPARTMENTS — POWERS  OF  OFFI- 
CIALS—THE  COURTS — POLICE  JUSTICES- THfi  MEN  BY  WHOM  NEW  YORK  IS  GOVERNED — RESPON. 
SIBILITY  OF  THE  BETTER  CLASSES — FROM  THE  GROG  SHOP  TO  CIVIL  POWER — WHO  THE  LEAD- 
ERS ARE — THE  "  boss" — THE  RING  HOW  BOSS  TWEED  MAINTAINED  HIS  POWER  SPASMODIC 

EFFORTS  AT  REFORM — MULHOOLYXSM  IN  NEW  YORK — AN  INSIDE  \TEW  OF  MUNICIPAL  POLrTICS^ 
— THE  SLAVE  OF  THE  RING — LOOKING  OUT  FOR  THE  "  BOYS  " — THE  INTERESTS  O?  THE  CITY 
NEGLECTED — THE  POPULAR  WILL  DEFIED  BY  THE  RING.  nS 

CHAPTER  Vin. 
BROADWAY. 

■AmLY   HISTORY   OF   BROADWAY — UNDEP    THE  DUTCH  AND  ENGLISH  RULE— PRIMITIVa  NAMB  OF 

THE  STREET— IT  COMMENCES  TO  GKOW—THE  GREAT  FIRE  OF  1776— THE  BROADWAY  OF  TO- 
DAY APPEARANCE    OF    THE    STREET  A    STROLL    ON    BKOAUWAV — THE    LOWER  STREET  

TRINITY  CHURCH — THE  INSURANCE  CO.MPANIES — THE  TELEGRAPH  WIRES — MAGNIFICENT 
BUILDINGS — SCENE  FROM  THE  POST-OFFICE — A  BROADWAY  JAM — LOWER  BROADWAY  BY 
WIGHT  -CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  VARIOUS  PORTIONS  OF  THE  STREET— VIEW  FROM  CANAL 
STREET— THE  HOTELS — AMONG  THE  PUBLISHERS — "  STEWARt's  " — GRACE  CHURCH — 
BROADWAY  AT  UNION  SQUARE — THE  NARROWEST  PART — MADISON  SQUARE — A  GRAND  SIGHT — 
VPPER  BROADWAY — A  STREET  OF  MARBLE — THE  GRE.\T  HOTELS— THE  CENTRAL  PARK 
REACHED— STREET  CARS  AND  OMNIBUSES — THE  NIGHT  LIFE  OF  BROADWAY — SCENES  ON  THE 

STREET  THE   STREET   WALKERS— THE    ELECTRIC    LIGHT— THE  MIDNIGHT  HOUR— BUSINESS 

ON  BROADWAY.  I34 

CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  BROADWAY  STAGiSp. 

tOPULARITY  OF  THIS  MODE  OF  CONVEYANCE— A  CHEAP  PLEASURE— DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  VARI- 
trUS  LINES— THE  STAGES  AS  REGARDS  COMFORT— THE  OUTSIDE  SEATS—"  KNOCKING  DOWN 
IN  BY-GONE  days"— THE  PATENT  CASH  BOX  SYSTEM— THE  "  SPOTTERS  "—A  NIGHT  RIDE 
WITH  JEHU— THE  "  BOSS "  ON  THE  WATCH— MYSTERIOUS  SIGNALS— SKILL  OF  THE  STAGE 
DRIVERS— A  STAGE  DRIVER  PHOTOGRAPH  ED— SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  DRIVERS— UPS  AND  DOWNS 
OF  THE  CRAFT— THE  MUTUAL  BENEFIT  ASSOCIATION  


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 
THE  FIFTH  AVENUE. 

VJFTH  AVBNUH  THE  CENTRE  OF  FASHION  AND  WEALTH — DESCRIPTION  OF  THB  STREET— A 
GRAND  PANORAMA — LOWER  FIFTH  AVENUE — ENCROACHMENTS   OF    BUSINESS— FOURTEENTH 

STRBKT — THB   "  SWALLOW- TAIL"     DEMOCRACY — AMONG  THB  PIANO  MAKERS  CHICKERING 

HALL — CHURCHES  CLUBS  AND  ART  GALLERIES — TWENTY-TKJRD  STREET — DELMONICO'S — ■ 

THB  ASTOR  RESIDENCES — STEWART'S  MARBLE  PALACE — A  REGION  OF  BROWN  STONE — UPPER 
FIFTH  AVENUE — THE  HOTELS — THE  CATHEDRAL — THE  VANDERBILT  MANSIONS — ALONG 
THB  CENTRAL  PARK — THE  LENOX  LIBRARY — THE  FIFTH  AVENUE  MANSIONS — HOMES  OF 
WEALTH  AND  LUXURY — HOW  THEY  ARE  FITTED  UP— FIFTH  AVENUE  ON  NEW  YEAr's  NIGHT — 
LIFB  IN  FIFTH  AVENUE — THE  WHIRL  OF  DISSIPATION — WHAT  IT  COSTS — THE  STRUGGLE  FOR 
SHOW — THE  "  NEWLY  RICH  " — DARK  SIDE  OF  FIFTH  AVENUE  LIFE — THE  SKELETONS — FIFTH 
AVEWUB  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES — THE  CHILDREN — "ALL  IS  NOT  GOLD  THAT  GLITTERS."  l6S 

CHAPTER  XL 
THE  ELEVATED  RAILROADS. 

CNCONVENIENCES  OF  OLD-STYLE  TRAVEL — PLANS  FOR  RAPID  TRANSIT — THE  FIBST  ELEVATED 
RAILROAD — THE  PRESENT  SYSTEM — THE  METROPOLITAN  AND  NEW  YORK  ELEVATED  ROADS — 
THE  MANHATTAN  COMPANY — DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ROADS — HOW  THEY  ARE  BUILT — MODE  OF 
OPERATIONS — STATIONS — EMPLOYEES — RAPID  TRAINS — ADVANTAGES  OF  THE  SYSTEM — ITS 
DRAWBACKS — IMMENSE  TRAFFIC — RESULTS  OF  THE  ELEVATED  SYSTEM — RAPID  GROWTH  OP 
THE  UPPER  PART  OF  THE  CITY — A  RIDE  ON  THE  ELEVATED  RAILROADS — THB  OTGHT  TRAINS 
•—FROM  THE  BATTERY  TO  HARLEM  BY  NIGHT  IjS 

CHAPTER  XII. 
SOCIETY. 

THX  VARIOUS  CLASSES  OF  SOCIETY— THB  BEST  OF  ALL — THE  "OLD  KNICKERBOCKERS" — A  HBAVT 
SET  OF  SWELLS — RICHES  AND  CULTURE  COMBINED — THE  NEWLY  RICH — THE  CONTROLLING 
BLBMENT — HOW  SHODDY  GETS  INTO  SOCIETY — THE  POWER  OF  MONEY — FASHIONABLE  SNOB- 
BERY— FROM  THE  TENEMENT  HpUSE  TO  THE  FIFTH  AVENUE  MANSION — MANIA  FOR  COATS 
OF  ARMS— HOW  BOSS  TWEED  'WAS  VICTIMIZED— SUDDEN  APPEARANCES  AND  DISAPPEAR- 
ANCES IN  SOCIETY  "  RICHES  HAVE  WINGS  "  A  FAILURE  AND  A  TRIUMPH  WHAT  IT  COSTS  

MONEY  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL — EXTRAVAGANCE  OF  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY — LOVE  OF  DRESS 
— A  FASHIONABLE  LADY's  WARDROBE— FOLLIES  OF  THE  MEN— PASSION  FOR  THE  LEG  BUSI- 
NESS FASHIONABLE  ENTERTAINMENTS — THE  END  OF  EXTRAVAGANT  CAREERS — THE  SKELE- 

YONS  SOMETIMES  COME  OUT  OF  THEIR  CLOSETS— FASHIONABLE  BALLS  AND  PARTIES — HOW 
Tt'EY  AREGIVBN — INVITATIONS— BALL  ROOM  SCENES — THE  SUPPERS — A  SWELL  CON\'ERSATION 
— FASHIONABLE  THIEVES — AN  ARISTOCRATIC  SNEAK  THIEF — HOW  A  BROKER  KEPT  HIS  PLACB 

IN  SOCIETY  A  detective's  EXPERIENCE  IN  FASHIONABLE  LIFE  THE   PRETTY   WIDOW  AND 

THE  lACES — 'FASHIONABLE  RECEPTIONS — WEDDINGS  IN  HIGH  LIFE — ARRANGED  ON  A  PECU- 
NIARY BASIS  MONEY  THE  ATTRACTION  HOW  HEARTS  ARE  BOUGHT  AND  SOLD  THE  WED- 
DING FESTIVITIES — GUARDING  THE  BRIDAL  PRESENTS  WHAT  IT   ALL    COSTS  FASHIONABLE 

DEATH — ORLY  THB   RICH    CAN   AFFORD    TO    DIE   IN    NEW  YORK  COST  OF  A  FASHIONABLB 

rUNBRAL— INTERESTING  DETAILS  t95 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  STREET  RAILWAYS. 

•SHE   PRESENT   STREET-RAILWAY   SYSTEM — IMMENSE   BUSINESS   DONE  BY  THE  SURFACE  ROADS  

EXPENSES  AND  RECEIPTS — HOW  THE  ELEVATED  ROADS  HAVE  AFFECTED  THE  HORSE  RAIL- 
WAYS— DISCOMFORTS  OF  THE  STREET  CARS — THE  CONDUCTORS  AND  DRIVERS — STORY  OF  A 
conductor's  lot — h  ARD  WORK  AND  POOR  PAY — KNOCKING  DOWN — HOW  IT  IS  DONK — BBAT- 
IMG  THB  BBLL-FUNCH.  t^t 


X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
SIXTH  AVENUE. 

ILAPID  ADVANCE  OF  SIXTH  AVENUE  IN  PROSPERITY— DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  STREET— THE  IX)WBa 
PORTION — THE  TENEMENT  HOUSES — FRENCH  FLATS — THE  ELEVATED  RAILROAD  AND  ITS 
STATIONS — A  BUSY  SCENE — SIXTH-AVENUE  STORES — "  MACEY'S  " — THE  JEFFERSON  MARKET 
POLICE  COURT — booth's  THEATRE — THE  MASONIC  TEMPLE — "  THE  TABERNACLE" — SIXTH 
AVENUE  BY  NIGHT — A  CHANGE  OF  SCENE — THE  STREET-WALKERS — BRAZEN  VICE — ^THE 
FRENCH  WOMEN— SNARING  A  VICTIM — SHAMEFUL  SCENES  ON  THE  AVENUE — THE  STREET  A 
TERROR  TO  DECENT  PEOPLE— THE  ROUGHS— SIXTH-AVENUE  OYSTER  HOUSES  AND  BEER  SA- 
LOONS— SCENE  IN  A  FLASH  SALOON — A  YOUTHFUL  CRIMINAL — THE  DETECTIVE'S  PRIZE — 
SIXTH  AVENUE  AFTER  MIDNIGHT — A  DRUNKEN  SINGER — "  IN  THE  SWEET  BYE-AND-BYB  " — 
NO  EFFORT  MADE  TO  CHECK  THE  EVIL  250 

CHAPTER  XV. 
COACHING  DAY. 

■UMORIHSOF  BYGONE  DAYS — STAGE  COACHING  IN  FORMER  YEARS — REVIVAL  OF  COACHING  IH  NEW 
YORK — COLONEL  KANE'S  ENTERPRISE — THE  "  TALLY  HO  " — A  HANDSOME  SUCCESS — SOCIETY 
ADOPTS  COACHING  AS  THE"  CORRECT  THING  " — THE  COACHING  CLUB  ORGANIZED — COACHING 
BAY — THE  ANNUAL  PARADE — A  BRILLIANT  SIGHT.  258 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  STREETS  OF  NEW  YORK. 

MADISON  AVENUE — MILES  OF  BROWN  STONE — PARK  AVENUE — LEXINGTON  AVENUE — ^THIRTY- 
FOURTH    AND  FIFTY-SEVENTH    STREETS — MAGNIFICENT    RESIDENCES  THIRD    AVENUE  THE 

GREAT  HIGHWAY  OF  THE  EAST  SIDE — EIGHTH  AVENUE  THE  SMALL  TRADERS*  PARADISE  ^THR 

SATURDAY  NIGHT  MARKET  TWENTY-THIRD  AND  FOURTEENTH  STREETS — DISAPPEARANCE  OF 

LANDMARKS — CHANGES  IN  THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  STREETS — A  GLANCE  AT  TWENTY-THIRD 
STREET  TO-DAY — "tHE  BEGGARS'  PARADISE  "—STREET  CHARACTERS — A  YOUNG  IMPOSTOR — 
KICKED  FROM  A  HORSE  CAR  INTO  A  HOME — BLEECKER  STREET — LIFE  IN  BOHEMIA — A  STREET 

•WHERE  NO  QUESTIONS   ARE  ASKED  GRAND  STREET  CHATHAM  STREET  THE  CHILDREN  OF 

ISRAEL  AND  THEIR  WAYS — FULTON  STREET — NASSAU  STREET — A  CROWDED  NEIGHBORHOOD — 

PECULIARITIES  OF  THE  STREET — PINE    STREET  AMONG    THE    MONEYED    MEN  WEST  AND 

SOUTH  STREETS — ALONG  THE  WATER  SIDE— BUSY  SCENES  265 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
DIVORCES  WITHOUT  PUBLICITY. 

QUEER  ADVERTISEMENTS — THE  "DIVORCE  RING  " — ITS  FIELD  OF  OPERATIONS — THKniVORCB 
LAWYER — WHO  HE  IS — HEADQUARTERS  OF  THE  MEMBERS  OF  THE  RING  SCENE  IN  A  LAW- 
YER'S   OFFICE  A    RICH    CLIENT — "  OFF    WITH    THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  ON  WITH  THE  NEW" — A 

CHARACTERISTIC  CASE — "  THE  EASIEST  THING  IN  THE  WORLD  TO  GET  A  DIVORCE*' — WEST- 
ERN DIVORCES  HOW  A  MERCHANT  MADE   A  MISTRESS  OF  HIS  WIFE — WHO  ARE  THE  CLIENTS 

— COST  OF  A  DIVORCE — HOW  IT  IS  MANAGED — THE  REFEREE  SYSTEM — SPOTTING  A  HUSBAND- 
MANUFACTURING    EVIDENCE — THE    "  OLD    MAN*'    ENTRAPPED  PROFESSIONAL  WITNESSES  

THE    DIVORCE   LAWYER'S   SYSTEM    OF    DRUMMING   UP  BUSINESS — DIRTY  WORK  FOR  TEN  PBil 

CENT. — SERVING   A  SUMMONS — A  MOCKERY  OF  JUSTICE — POWER  OF  THE  RING  THE  COURTS 

AND  BAR  AFRAID  TO  BREAK  IT  UP  a8l 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
CHRISTMAS  IN  NEW  YORK. 

VRBPARATIONS  FOR  CHRISTMAS— HOLIDAY  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  CITY— STREET  SCENES — BUSINESS 
BOOMING — SCENES  IN  THE  CITY  BY  NIGHT — A  NOVEL  SIGHT  ON  THE  ELEVATED  RAILROAD 
TRAINS — BUSY  TIMES  IN  THE  MARKETS — THE  TURKEYS — TRINITY  CHIMES — MIDNIGHT  SER" 
TICBS  CHRISTMAS  DAY — HOW  IT  IS  OBSERVED  IN  NEW  YORK — CHRISTMAS  WITH  THE  POOR- 

v» 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
PUBLIC  BUILDINGS. 

T»B  CITY  HALL — THE  GOVERNOR'S  ROOM — THE  COUNTY  COURT  HOUSE— REMINISCENCES  OF  THH 
"  TWEED  ring" — THE  HALL  OF  RECORDS — THE  UNITED  STATES  SUB-TREASURY — THE  GRBAT 
VAULTS — HOW  UNCLE  SAM's  MONEY  IS  GUARDED — THE  ASSAY  OFFICE — THE  CUSTOM  HOUSB— ' 
A  NOBLE  EDIFICE — THE  BUSINESS  OF  THE  FORT  OF  NEW  YORK — DUTIES  OF  OFFICIALS — ^TUB 
BARGE  OFFICE — PASSING  THROUGH  THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE — CUSTOM  HOUSE  BROKERS — TAM- 
MANY HALL — THE  TAMMANY  SOCIETY — POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION — "  BOSS  KELLY** — THB 
COOPER  UNION — WORK  OF  THE  INSTITUTION — THE«IBLE  HOUSE — A  GREAT  WORK  DONE — ^THB 
NATIONAL  ACADEMY  OF  DESIGN — HOW  THE  SCHOOLS  ARE  CONDUCTED — ANNUAL  BXMIKI- 
TIONS — THE  YOUNG  MEN's  CHRISTIAN  ASSOCIATION  BUILDING — THE  LECTURE  ROOM — A 
REFUGE  FOR  YOUNG  MEN — THE  GRAND  CENTRAL  RAILROAD  DEPOT — INTERNAL  ARRANGE- 
MENTS— THE  CAR  HOUSE — THE  FOURTH  AVENTJE  TUNNELS.  296 

CHAPTER  XX. 
NEW  YEAR'S  CALLS. 
imw  York's  great  festal  day — preparations  for  new  year's  day — tRb  hair-drbssbrs* 

ROUNDS — RECEPTION  CARDS — HOW  THEY  ARE   ISSUED  JOINT  RECEPTIONS — THE  CARD-HAS' 

KET  AND   ITS  MEANING  LADIES'  TOILETS — A  CHANCE  FOR  REFORM — THE  FIRST  CAU.BUS— 

THE  VETERANS — ADVANTAGES  OF  A  LIST — SCENES  TOWARD  NIGHTFALL — TOO  MUCH  PVNCH— 
MRS.  B.'S  RECEPTION — A  SWEET  FINALE — NEW  YEAR  IN  THE  KITCHEN-v  -JBOW  THE  SALOON* 
CELEBRATE  THE  DAY — REFRESHMENTS  AND  PUNCH  FOR  ALL — NEW  YORX  WITH  A  HEAD- 
ACHE— LADIES'  DAY.  320 

CHAPTER  XXL 
AMONG  THE  BULLS  AND  BEARS  OF  WALL  STREET. 

•BSCRIPTION  OF  WALL  STREET — VALUE  OF  REAL  ESTATE — ENORMOUS  RENTS — ORIGIN  OF  THB 
NAME  OF  THB  STREET — NOTABLE  BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS  OF  THE  STREET — THB  SsCKNIt 

AT  NOON — THE   STOCK  EXCHANGE — THE   LONG  ROOM  OUTSIDE    DEALERS — THE  REGULAR 

BOARD — HOW  BUSINESS  IS  CONDUCTED  IN  THE  EXCHANGE — THE  VICE-PRESIDENT — RUL6S  OF 
THE  EXCHANGE — GOOD  FAITH  EXACTED  OF  ITS  MEMBERS— THE  GOVERNMENT  BOARI>-^ 
CHARACTERISTIC  SCENES — THE  VAULTS  AND  THEIR  TREASURES — THE  TELEGRAPH  I^fS^RlI- 
MENTS — THE  "  TICKERS  " — LIFE   OF  A   STOCK   BROKER — SPORTS  OF  THE  EXCHANGE — THB 

CLEARING  HOUSE  AND  ITS  OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE  BROKERS— RECKLESS  TRANSACTIONS  

STOCK  SPECULATIONS — BUYING   AND   SELLING   ON   COMMISSION — UNCERTAINTIES    OF  THB 

STREET — HOW  FORTUNE  ARE  MADE  AND  LOST  ON  WALL  STREET — STOCK  GAMBLING  WHO 

ARB  THE  SPECULATORS — A  DARING  BROKER — "  BLACK  FRID.W  " — HOW  AN  OPER.ATOR  WAS 

RUINED  STOCK  SWINDLERS — SHARPERS   IN  W.\LL  STREET  THE    COMBINATION  SYSTB* — ft 

BAREFACED  SWINDLE — ACTION  OF  THE  GENER.\L  GOVERNMENT — HOW  BOGUS  OPERATORS 
FLEECE  UNSUSPECTING  CUSTOMERS — AN  INSIDE  VIEW  OF  THE  COMBINATION  SYST8M— ' 
ENORMOUS  PROFITS — THB  SWINDLE  EXPOSED — A  WARNING  TO  WOULD-BB  SPECULATORS.  33* 

CHAPTER  XXn. 
ALONG  THE  WHARVES. 

WRETCHED  CHARACTER  OF  THE  WHARVES — PLAN  FOR  A  NEW  SYSTEM — THE  NORTH  RlVBll 
FP.ONT — THE  RAILROAD  PIERS — THE  FERRY  HOUSES — THE  FOREIGN  STEAMSHIPS — THB 
FLOATING  PALACES  OF  THE  HUDSON  AND  LONG  ISLAND  SOUND — THE  BETHEL— THB  BOAT 
STORES— THE  GRAIN  ELEVATORS — THE  EAST  RIVER  FRONT — SAILING  VESSELS— THE  SHIP 
YARDS — THE  DRY  DOCKS — THE  CAN.\L  BOATS — SCEN-ES  ON  BOARD — THE  FRUIT  TRADE — ^TH» 
FISH  MARKET — SCENF.S  ALONG  THE  WHARVES — ACCIDENTS — THE  RESCUE  STATION* — THK 
TOLUNTEER  LIFE-SAVING  CORPS — "  NAN,  THE  LIFE  SAVER."  j6» 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
POLICE. 

OKICIN   OF   THB    NEW  YORK   POLICE    FORCE— THE    OLD    TIME  POLICEMEN — "  OLD  HAYBS 

JNCBEASE  OF  CRIME— GEORGE  VV.  MATSELL — THE  FIRST  REGULAR  POLICE  FORCE — OPPOSITIOH 
IT— THE  METROPOLITAN  POLICE    FORCE  ORGANIZED— THE  MUNICIPAL   POLICE— POUCK 

HEADQUARTERS— THE     COMMISSIONERS— SUPERINTENDENT     WALLING  THE  SUBORDINATB 

OFFICERS — THE  PATROLMEN— QUALIFICATIONS  OF  A  POLICEMAN — THE  BROADWAY  SQUAD  

DUTIES  OF  THE  FORCE— OMNIPRESENCE  OF  THE  POLICE— POWER  OVER  THE  ROUGHS — DAN- 
GERS OF  A  policeman's   LIFE — DARING  EXPLOITS  OF  CAPTAINS  WILLIAMS  AND  ALLAIRE  

JMGHTING  A  MOB — FEAR  OF  THE  "  LOCUSTS  " — UNIFORM  OF  THE  FORCE — HOW  THE  CITY  IS 

FATKOLLED  HOURS  OF  DUTY — A  SINGULAR  POLICEMAN — HOW  PETE  JOINED  THE  FORCE  

HIE  SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE  STATION  HOUSES — INTERNAL  ARRANGEMENTS — THE  "  BUM* 
MERS'  ROOMS  "—HOW  VAGRANTS  ARE  LODGED — THE  SERGEANT  IN  CHARGE — A  NIGHT  IN  A 
POUCE  STATION — A  FEMALE  TRAMP — "  DRUNK  AND  DISORDERLY  '' — A  CASE  OF  DISTRESS — A 
»BU1TLESS  ERRAND — A  NEW  WAY  TO  GET  HOME  AT  NIGHT — SEARCH  FOR  A  MISSING  HUSBAND 
— A  POLITICAL  ROW — YOUNG  BLOODS  ON  A  LARK — COSTLY  FUN — A  WOULD-BE-SUICIDE — 
BROUGHT  BACK  FROM  THE  GRAVE — A  JOLLY  TRAMP — A  GHASTLY  SPECTACLE — MASKERS  IN  A 
STATION  HOUSE — THE  MOUNTED  POLICE — A  SENSIBLE  HORSE — THE  HARBOR  POLICE — A  HARD 
UFK — PROVISION  FOR  DISABLED  POLICEMEN  AND  THEIR  FAMILIES  368 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
FERRIES. 

WBW  York's  only  means  of  communicaiion  with  the  main  land — number  of  ferries— 

THE    FERRY   BOATS  CROSSING    IN    A    FOG  ANNOYANCES    OF    FERRY  TRAVEL — ^THE  FBRRT 

JBOUSHS  A  MOONLIGHT  RIDE  ON  A  FERRY    BOAT  A  SUICIDE  ACCIDENTS.    .         .         .  4<H 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
THE  PRISONS  OF  NEW  YORK. 

THE  TOMBS — DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  BUILDING — THE  INTERIOR — THE  "  BRIDGE  OF  SIGHS" — 
PLACE  OF  EXECUTION — THE  MALE  PRISON — THE  CELLS — ^THE  WOMEn's  PRISON — ^THB 
"bummers'  hall" — THK  WARDEn's  OFFICE — THE  "SWELL  CELLS" — THE  BOYS*  PRISON — 
RELIGIOUS  SERVICES — GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  TOMBS — WARDEN  FINN — THE  MATRON — A 
PRISON  OF  DETENTION — NOTED  ESCAPES  FROM  THE  TOMBS — "  BLACK  MARIA  " — ^THE 
POLICE  COURT — HOW   PRISONERS  ARE   DISPOSED   OF — THE   COURT   OF   SPECIAL  SESSIONS — 

THE  "tombs  shysters" — LUDLOW  STREET  JAIL  THE  SHERIFF'S  PRISON — IMPRISONMENT 

FOB    DEBT  CAPTIVE     MILITIAMEN — FEDERAL    PRISONERS — EXTORTIONS    PRACTICED  UPON 

rRISONERS — HOW  THB  DEPUTY  SHERIFFS  BLEKD  THEIR  VICTIMS  409 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
PUBLIC  SQUARES. 

THK   BATTERY  PARK— ITS  HISTORY— THE   BATTERY  IN  OLD  TIMES — ITS  PRESENT  CONDITION — A 

DELIGHTFUL    BREATHING    PLACE — THE    BARGE    OFFICE  THE    BOWLING    GREEN — THB  CITY 

MALL  PARK— TOMPKINS  SQUARE— SQUANDERING  THE  PUBLIC  FUNDS  A  FINE  PARK  RUINED- 
WASHINGTON    SQUARE  UNION    SQUARE    AND  ITS   SURROUNDINGS  THE  "  SLAVE  MARKET*' 

 STUYVESANT  SQUARE  MADISON  SQUARE  A  DELIGHTFUL  PLEASURE-GROUND  MAGNIFI- 
CENT SURROUNDINGS — GRAMMERCY  PARK — RESERVOIR  SQUARE — MOUNT  MORRIS  SQUARE — 
MOBNINGSIDE  PARK — RIVERSIDE  PARK.  4M 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

«r 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
THE  PAWNBROKERS  AND  THEIR  WAYS. 

(■B  SIGN  OF  THE  THREE  BALLS — LAWS  RESPECTING  PAWNBROKERS — HOW  LICENSES  ARE  ISSUED — ■ 
DISREGARD  OF  THE  LAW  BY  THE  PAWNBROKERS — SOURCES  OF  PROFIT — EXCESSIVE  INTEREST — 
STORAGE  CHARGES — SALES  OF  UNREDEEMED  GOODS — WHO  ARE  THE  PAWNBROKERS — THtt 
TEWS — A  DISHONEST  CLASS — SUCKING  THE  LIFE-BLOOD  OF  THE  POOR — HOW  CUSTOMERS  ARK 

SWINDLED  CHARACTERISTIC  SCENE  IN  A  PAWN  SHOP — THE  JEWs'  ONE  PER  CENT. — AN  INSIDK 

VIEW  OF  THE  BUSINESS — DRUMMING  UP  CUSTOM  432 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
THE  CENTRAL  PARK. 

•^NS  FOR  A  GRAND  PARK — CHOICE  OF  A  SITE — THE  PARK  COMMISSION  ORGANIZED — DIFFICUt" 
TIES  IN  THE  WAY— THE  WORK  BEGUN — THE  RESULT — THE  CENTRAL  PARK  OF  TO-DAY— COST 

OF  THE  PARK — THE  UPPER  AND   LOWER  PARKS — THE  ENTRANCES — THE  POND  THE  OLI> 

ARSENAL — THE  MENAGERIE — THE   METEOROLOGICAL  OBSERVATORY — THE  BALL  GROUND  

THE  DAIRY — AMUSEMENTS  FOR  CHILDREN — THE  GREEN — THE  SHEEPFOLD — THE  SEVENTH 
REGIMENT  STATUE — STATUE  OF  WEBSTER — THE  MARBLE  ARCH — THE  MALL — STATUES  ON  THK 

MALL  THE  PLAZA — THE  VINE-COVERED  WALK — THE  ARCADE — THE  TERRACE  THE  ESPLAN- 

ADE — THE  BETHESDA  FOUNTAIN — THK  LAKE — BOATING  SKATING  SCENES — THE  CONSERVA- 
TORY WATER — THE  RAMBLE  THE  CAVE  THE  BELVEDERE  THE  CROTON  RESERVOIRS  THK 

UPPER  PARK — HARLEM  BEER  THE  OLD  POWDER  HOUSE — THE  METROPOLITAN  MUSEUM  OP 

ART — THE  DI  CESNOLA  COLLECTION — THE  OBELISK — A  VENERABLE  RELIC  OF  THE  ANCIENT 
WORLD  THE  AMERICAN  MUSEUM  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY — THE  TRANSVERSE  ROADS —  A  TRI- 
UMPH OF  ENGINEERING — THE  PARK  COMMISSION — THE  POLICE  REGULATIONS — PARK  TRAFFIC. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 
TRINITY  CHURCH. 

**OI.D  trinity" — THE  THREE  CHURCHES— DESCRIPTION  OF  TRINnTY  CHURCH — THE  INTERIOR^ 
THE  ALTAR  AND  REREDOS — THE  WINDOWS — THE  SERVICES — FINE  MUSIC — DAILY  SIGHTS  It* 
TRINITY — THE  SPIRE — THE  CHIMES — VIEW  FROM  THE  SPIRE — THE  CHURCHYARD — NOTED 
TOMBS — TRINITY  PARISH — THE  CHAPELS — WEALTH  OF  THE  PARISH — ITS  NOBLE  WORK.  469 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
THE  LOST  SISTERHOOD. 

RBVALBNCB  OF  PROSTITUTION  IN  NEW  YORK — POLICE  STATISTICS — FIRST-CLASS  HOUSES— 
THE  PROPRIETRESS  —  THE  INMATES  —  THE  ARISTOCRACY  OF  SHAME  —  THE  VISITORS  — 
VISITS  OF  MARRIED  MEN — AVERAGE  LIFE  OF  A  FASHIONABLE  PROSTITUTE — THE  NEXT 
STEP — THE    SECOND-CLASS    HOUSES — TERRORS    OF   THESE    PLACES — THE   GREENE  STREET! 

BAGNIOS  GOING  DOWN  INTO  THE  DEPTHS — THE  NEXT  STEP — THE  WATER  STREET  HELLS 

— AVERAGE  LIFE  OF  A  PROSTITUTE — "THE  WAGES  OF  SIN  IS  DEATH*' — HOW  YOUNG  GIRLS 
4RE  TEMPTED  INTO  SIN — EFFORTS  TO  SAVE  AN  ERRING  DAUGHTER — THE  STREET  WALK- 
ERS— THE    PANEL    HOUSES — HOW    MEN  ARE  ROBBED  AND  MURDERED  IN  THESE  HOUSES  

THE  CONCERT  SALOONS— THE  WAITER  GIRLS — THE  DANCE  HALLS— THE  "  BUCKINGHAM"— 
THE  "CREMORNE" — BUCKINGHAM  BALLS — ASSIGNATION  HOUSES — PERSONALS — THE  MID- 
NIGHT MISSION  —  REFORMATORY  ESTABLISHMENTS  —  ABORTIONISTS  —  THE  WICKEDftST 
WOMAN  IN  NEW  YORK.  


xiv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 
JAY  GOULD. 

KARLT  LIFE  OF  THE  GREAT  FINANCIER  —  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE — KNOWLEDGE  OF  LAW— 
ENTERS  THE  ERIE  ROAD — BLACK  FRIDAY — HOW  GOULD  CAME  OUT  OF  IT— A  SHREWD 
GAME  IN  "  ERIE  " — HIS  WEALTH— ATTACKED  IN  WALL  STREET— HIS  METHOD  OF  OPER- 
ATING 496 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
THE  NATIONAL  GUARD. 

THE  FIRST  DIVISION — ITS  ORGANIZATION — HOW  ARMED — APPROPRIATIONS  BY  THE  CITY- 
PRIVATE  EXPENSES— THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF  —  EFFICIENCY  OF  THE  TROOPS— PAST 
SERVICES  OF  THE  FORCE— OVERAWING  THE  MOB— PUTTING  DOWN  RIOTS — A  REINFORCE- 
MENT TO  THE  POLICE— DISCIPLINE— THE  ARMORIES— THE  SEVENTH  REGIMENT  ARMORY — 
PARADES  499 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
WILLIAM  H.  VANDERBILT. 

•HB  RICHEST  MAN  IN  NEW  YORK — EARLY  LIFE — BECOMES  A  FARMER — ENTERS  THE  RAILROAD 
WORLD — BECOMES  VICE-PRESIDENT  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  CENTRAL  SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS  THE 
OLD  COMMODORE — THE  VANDERBILT  PALACES — LOVE  OF  FAST  HORSES.  .         .  503 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
CRIME  IN  NEW  YORK. 

ntOFESSIONAL  CRIMINALS — THEIR  NUMBERS — THE  THIEVES— SUPERINTENDENT  WALLING's  ©B» 
SCRIPTION  OF  THEM— THE  THIEF  LANGUAGE  GRADES  OF  THIEVES — BURGLARS— BANK  ROB- 
BERS—SNEAK THIEVES — CONFIDENCE  MEN — HOW  THEY  OPERATE— THE  PICKPOCKETS — 
WHERE  THEY  COME  FROM — THE  ROGUES'  GALLERY — THE  RIVER  THIEVES — DARING  CRIMES 
— ^THE  FENCES— HOW  STOLEN  GOODS  ARE  DISPOSED  OF— TRICKS  OF  THE  FENCES— THE 
ROUGHS— BLACKMAILERS- -HOW  THEY  FLEECE  THEIR  VICTIMS.         ....  506 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 
CREEDMOOR. 

tWB  NATIONAL  RIFLE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA— THE  CREEDMOOR  RANGE— THE  GROUND* 
— THE  TARGETS— SHOOTING  MATCHES— NATIONAL  GUARD  PRACTICE— AMATEUR  MARKS- 
HBN  .527 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
BAR-ROOMS. 

••WESTS  FOR  DRUNKENNESS  AND  DISORDER- NUMBER  OF  LICENSED  BAR-ROOMS — THE  DRINK- 
ING CAPACITY  OF  WALL  STREET — AMOUNT  OF  BEER  DRANK — THE  LARGEST  BAR  IN  THE 
WORLD — AN  ENORMOUS  BUSINESS  IN  RUM — HIGH  RENTS  ASKED  FOR  BAR-ROOMS— THE  ALL- 
KIGHT  HOUSES  —  THE  BUCKET-SHOPS  —  GREAT  AMOUNT  OF  DRUNKENNESS  —  WOMEN  AS 
DRINKERS — WHERE  THEY  GET  THEIR  LIQUOR.   53» 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
HENRY  BERGH. 

tun  FRIEND  OF  THE  BRUTE  CREATION— ESTABLISHMENT  OS  THE  "SOCIETY  FOR  THB  PRE- 
VENTION OF  CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS  " — WORK  OF  MR.  BERGH — HOW  HE  BECAME  A  TERROR 
TO  TWO-LEGGED  BRUTES — A  NOBLE  RECORD.  534 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
THE  EAST  RIVER  BRIDGE. 

VRAVEL  and  traffic  BETWEEN  NEW  YORK  AND  BROOKLYN — THE  FERRIES — PLANS  FOR  A 
BRIDGE— THE  WORK  BEGUN— THB  GREAT  BRIDGE — THE  TOWERS — THE  BRIDGE  PROPER 
— THE  CENTRAL  SPAN — THE  CABLES — THE  ANCHORAGES — THE  APPROACHES — PLANS  FOR 
TRAVEL  ACROSS  THE  BRIDGE  537 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
GAMBLERS  AND  THEIR  WAYS. 

I.AWS  AGAINST  GAMBLING — NUMBER  OF  GAMBLERS  IN  THE  CITY— THE  FARO  BANKS— FIRST- 
CLASS  ESTABLISHMENTS— SPLENDID  VICE— THE  BROADWAY  HELLS — THE  SKIN  GAME- 
DANGERS  OF  SUCH  PLACES — THE  DAY  HOUSES — POOL-SELLING — TRICKS  OF  POOL-SELLERS 
 LOTTERIES — HOW   THEY    ARE   CONDUCTED — POLICY  DEALING — AN  INSIDE  VIEW  OF  THB 


GAME  5^ 

CHAPTER  XL. 
THE  HUDSON  RIVER  TUNNEL. 

A  DARING  UNDERTAKING— THE  WORK  BEGUN — ACCIDENTS — DESCRIPTION   OF  THE  TUNNELS— 
THE  PROPOSED   DEPOT  IN  NEW  YORK — PROSPECTS  OF  THE  SCHEME.         .         .         .  55J 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
FASHIONABLE  SHOPPING. 

FASHIONABLE   STORES — HANDSOME   GOODS — THE   FIXED-PRICE  SYSTEU — DETECTIVES   ON  THB 

WATCH— "  Stewart's  " — enormous  transactions  there  556 

CHAPTER  XLII. 
TENEMENT  HOUSES. 


density  of  population  in  new  YORK— number  of  tenement  houses  AND  INHABITANTS 
— causes  of  LIVING  IN  TENEMENT  HOUSES — HIGH  RENTS — HOMES  OF  THE  WORKING 
class — HOPES  FOR  THE  FUTURE— VARIETIES  OF  TENEMENT  HOUSES — A  SPECIMEN — CLOSK 
PACKING— RENTS  OF  APARTMENTS — EVILS  OF  THE  SYSTEM  559 

CHAPTER  XLIIL 
JERRY  McAULEY's  MISSION. 


WATER  STREET— THE  MISSION — ITS  SUCCESS — JERRY  m'AULBY — THB  REFORMED  THIEF— MRS. 
m'AULEY— THE  PRAYER-MEETINGS— THE  AUDIENCE — JERRY  M'AULEY'S  METHODS — A  SCENK 
AT  A  PKAYER-MEETING— A  WONDERFUL  WORK.  56j 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 
METROPOLITAN  AMUSEMENIS. 

THE  PRIKCIPAL  THEATRES — METROPOLITAN  AU*  .ENCES — EXPENSES  OF  A  FIRST-CLASS  TKHATRK 
— SALARIES  OF  ACTORS — PRODUCTION  OF  NEW  PLAYS — LONG  RUNS — "  BOOTH'S  "  THEATRE 
A    MODEL    ESTABLISHMENT — THE    GRAND    OPERA  HOUSE — "  WALLACk's  " — "  THE  UNION 

SQUARE  " — "  Daly's  " — the  academy   of    music — variety  theatres— the  grand 

I>UKE'»  theatre — NEGRO  MINSTRELS — CONCERTS — LECTURES.  ,         -        .         .  571^ 

CHAPTER  XLV. 
LIFE  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

POVERTY  IN  NEW  YORK — THE  DESERVING  POOR — SAD  SCENES — "RAGPICKERS*  ROW  " — HOW 
THE  RAGPICKERS  LIVE— AN  ITALIAN  COLONY — SOUR  BEER— DRUNKENNESS  IN  "RAGPICK- 
ERS* row" — BOTTLE  ALLEY — A  RELIC  OF  THE  FIVE  POINTS — A  WRETCHED  QUARTER — 
THE  DWELLINGS  OF  POVERTY — THE  CELLARS — LIFE  BELOW  GROUND — BAXTER  STREET — 
THB  CHINESE  QUARTER— A  HOSPITAL  FOR  CATS.  ...«••...  jSr 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 
THE  METROPOLITAN  PRESS. 

THE  DAILY  NEWSPAPERS — HOW  THE  LEADING  JOURNALS  ARE  CONDUCTED — THE  VARIOUS  DA. 
PARTMENTS— PRINTING-HOUSE  SQUARE — EDITORS*  SALARIES— THE  "NEW  YORK  HERALD  " 
— THE  HERALD   OFFICE — JAMES  GORDON  BENNETT — CIRCULATION  OF  "THE   HERALD  "-,  , 

THB  TRIBUNE  "  THE  TALL  TOWER '* — WHITELAW  REID  PROFITS   OF  "THE  TRIBUNE"-, 

"THB  TIMES,"  THE  LEADING  REPUBLICAN  JOURNAL — "THE  SVtr,"  A  LIVELY  PAPER-.. 
CBARLES  A.  DANA— PROFITS  OF  "THE  SUN*'— THE  EVENING  PAPERS— WEEKLIES— MAGA  . 


NEW  YORK 

BY 

SUNLIGHT  AND  GASLIGHT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  GREAT  METROPOLIS. 

««IfBRAL  DESCRIPTION  OP  NEW  YORK  CITY — LOCATION— NATURAL  ADVANTAGES — COMMBRCIAL 
ADVANTAGES— THE  STREETS — BUILDINGS — CLIMATE — HKALTHFULNESS — MORTALITY — RAPID 
GROWTH  OF  THE  CITY— LOFTY  BUILDINGS — DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  MOST  NOTED  AND  THK 
HIGHEST  STRUCTURES  IN  THE  CITY— REASONS  FOR  BUILDING  SO  HIGH — LAND  CHEAP  VP 
STAIRS. 

New  York,  the  commercial  metropolis  of  America, 
is  also  the  largest ,  city  of  the  Western  Hemisphere. 
It  lies  at  the  mouth  of  the  Hudson  River,  and  occupies 
the  whole  of  Manhattan  Island,  Randall's,  Wards,  and 
Blackwell's  Islands,  in  the  East  River,  Bedloe's,  Ellis's 
and  Governor's  Islands  in  the  Bay,  and  a  portion  of  the 
main  land  of  West  Chester  County,  north  of  Manhattan 
Island,  and  separated  from  it  by  the  Harlem  River  and 
Spuyten  Duyvel  Creek.  Its  extreme  length  northward 
from  the  Battery  is  sixteen  miles ;  its  greatest  width, 
from  the  Hudson  to  the  mouth  of  the  Bronx  River,  is 
four  and  a  half  miles;  thus  giving  it  an  area  of  forty- 
one  and  a  half  square  miles,  or  twenty-six  thousand  five 
hundred  acres.  Of  these,  twelve  thousand  one  hundred 
acres  are  on  the  main  land.  The  city  proper — the  true 
>  33 


34 


NEW  YORK. 


New  York — stands  on  Manhattan  Island,  which  is 
thirteen  and  a  half  miles  in  length,  and  varies  in 
breadth  from  a  few  hundred  yards  to  two  and  a  half 
miles.  It  has  an  area  of  nearly  twenty-two  square 
miles,  or  about  fourteen  thousand  square  acres.  The 
island  is  irregular  in  formation,  having  somewhat  the 
shape  of  a  fan.  It  is  very  narrow  at  The  Battery,  its 
southern  end,  and  widens  rapidly  as  it  proceeds  north- 
ward. Its  extreme  length  on  the  western  or  Hudson 
River  side  is  thirteen  and  a  half  miles,  while  on  the  East 
River  side  it  is  nine  miles  long.  It  attains  its  greatest 
breadth  at  Fourteenth  and  Eighty-seventh  streets, 
where  it  is  about  two  and  a  half  miles  wide.  At  The 
Battery  the  land  is  but  a  few  inches  above  the  surface 
of  the  water,  but  from  that  point  it  rises  steadily  until 
It  reaches  its  northern  limit,  at  Washington  Heights,  a 
range  of  bold  and  beautiful  cliffs,  130  feet  above  the 
Hudson.  The  lower  part  of  the  island  is  sandy;  the 
upper  part  very  rocky.  Several  bridges  over  the  Har- 
lem River  and  Spuyten  Duyvel  Creek  afford  connection 
with  the  main  land,  and  numerous  lines  of  ferry  boats 
maintain  constant  intercourse  on  the  Long  Island  and 
New  Jersey  shores.  The  city  is  compactly  built  along 
the  western  side,  from  the  Battery  to  Fifty-ninth  street, 
the  lower  end  of  the  Central  Park.  From  that  point 
to  Manhattanville,  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-fifth 
street,  the  buildings  ar^  straggling,  and  above  Man- 
hattanville the  west  side  is  very  rural,  abounding  in 
country  seats,  market  gardens  and  miniature  farms. 
The  east  side  is  built  up  compactly  almost  the  whole 
way,  there  being  only  about  two  miles  of  space  that 
does  not  merit  this  description. 


HOW  NEW  YORK  IS  BUILT. 


35 


Situated  between  two  broad,  deep  rivers,  and  within 
sixteen  miles  of  the  sea,  upon  which  it  looks  out  from 
the  safety  of  its  well-sheltered  harbor,  Manhattan  Is- 
land was  designed  by  nature  as  the  seat  of  a  great 
commercial  metropolis.  Its  waters  are  deep  enough 
for  the  largest  vessels,  and  in  its  commodious  harbor 
the  fleets  of  the  world  could  ride  at  ease.  It  commands 
all  the  chief  routes  of  communication  with  the  great 
West  and  South,  and  steam  and  electricity  have  enabled 
it  to  reach  the  various  quarters  of  the  globe  as  easily 
and  as  quickly  as  any  of  its  old  world  rivals. 

New  York  is  a  magnificently  built  city.  The  lower 
portion  is  a  dense  mass  of  houses,  with  narrow  and 
often  crooked  streets.  This  is  the  business  quarter, 
and  is  not  so  thickly  populated  as  the  middle  districts. 
Above  Canal  street  the  streets  assume  a  more  reralar 

o 

formation.  They  are  broad  and  straight,  crossing  each 
other  at  right  angles,  and  are  laid  off  at  regular  inter- 
vals. In  the  lower  portion  of  the  city  all  the  streets 
are  designated  by  names.  Above  Houston  street,  the 
cross  streets,  or  those  extending  from  river  to  river,  are 
designated  by  numbers.  The  avenues  start  from  about 
Third  street,  and  extend  to  the  northern  end  of  the 
island.  The  city  is  substantially,  as  well  as  handsomely 
built.  It  contains  few  frame  houses,  the  prevailing 
materials  being  marble,  stone,  iron  and  brick.  Marble, 
iron,  and  the  lighter  colored  stones  are  used  principally 
in  the  construction  of  business  edifices,  but  the  resi- 
dences are  chiefly  of  brick  and  brown  stone.  Land  be- 
ing very  high  in  price,  the  buildings  are  generally  lofty, 
often  reaching  an  altitude  of  seven  and  eight,  and  some- 
times ten  and  twelve  stories.    The  business  edifices 


36 


NEW  YORK. 


have  generally  two  cellars  below  the  pavement,  with 
vaults  extending  out  under  the  street.  These  are  dry, 
are  well  lighted  and  ventilated,  and  are  used  for  the 
storage  of  goods.  As  a  rule,  the  business  houses  of 
the  city  are  handsome  and  elegant.  Every  convenience 
is  provided  for  the  prompt  and  proper  despatch  of  the 
business  of  the  establishment.  Time  is  everything  in 
New  York,  and  nothing  is  neglected  that  can  possibly 
aid  in  saving  it.  Within  these  magnificent  edifices  is 
gathered  the  wealth  of  the  world.  Compared  with  the 
treasures  they  contain,  the  fabled  wealth  of  Tyre  of  old 
sinks  into  insignificance.  The  private  residences  of  the 
city  are  among  the  handsomest  in  the  world,  and,  as  a 
rule,  are  furnished  with  elegance  and  taste.  The  city 
has  all  the  substantial  appearance  of  London,  and  a 
large  part  of  the  brightness  and  beauty  of  Paris.  It 
is  a  worthy  rival  to  either,  and  is  in  many  respects  their 
superior. 

New  York  is  highly  favored  as  regards  its  climate. 
Its  proximity  to  the  sea  mitigates  the  cold  of  the  win- 
ters, and  the  cool  ocean  breezes  temper  the  fierce  heats 
of  the  summer  In  the  latter  season  the  lower  part  of 
the  city  may  be  stifling,  but  above  Thirty-fourth  street, 
and  in  all  the  upper  quarters,  the  breeze  is  constant  and 
refreshing.  If  New  York  were  not  a  great  city  it  would 
unquestionably  be  the  principal  watering  place  of  the 
continent.  Snow  rarely  lies  in  its  streets,  and  the 
people  consider  themselves  in  high  good  fortune  when 
the  winter  is  sufficiently  cold  to  hold  the  snow  long 
enough  to  give  them  a  few  days  of  sleighing. 

I  have  said  that  New  York  combines  the  solidity  of 
London  with  the  beauty  of  Paris.    Over  it  hangs  a  sky 


MORTALITY. 


37 


bluer  and  clearer  than  that  of  Italy.  Days  will  pass 
without  a  cloud  to  mar  the  calm  blue  depths  above,  and 
against  this  exquisite  background  the  spires  and  domes 
of  the  city  stand  out  as  clear  and  sharply  defined  as  if 
cut  on  a  cameo. 

Possessing  such  a  climate,  drained  by  such  broad, 
deep  rivers,  New  York  cannot  be  other  than  healthy. 
The  death  rate  compares  favorably  with  that  of  other 
cities.  It  is  largest  during  the  summer  months.  At 
this  period  children  swell  the  list  of  deaths  to  a  high 
figure.  The  great  infantile  mortality  occurs  '  in  the 
tenement  districts.  The  largest  number  of  deaths  oc- 
cur from  diarrhoeal  disease.  The  New  York  Tribune^ 
some  time  since,  thus  summed  up  the  most  interesting 
facts  in  relation  to  this  subject,  as  gained  from  a  report 
of  the  Board  of  Health  . — 

**The  great  infantile  mortality  occurs  mainly  in  the 
tenement  districts.  The  largest  number  of  cases  of 
death  from  diarrhoeal  disease  have  been  reported  from 
the  Nineteenth  Ward.  The  Thirteenth,  Fourteenth, 
Sixteenth,  Twenty-first,  Twenty-second,  and  Twenty- 
fourth  Wards  follow  closely.  The  other  Wards  have 
been  comparatively  free  from  deaths  of  this  sort.  The 
greatest  number  of  cases  of  diarrhoeal  disease  have 
been  found  in  tenements  containing  from  eight  to  ten 
families,  but  the  location  has  had  considerable  influence 
upon  the  death  rate.  Very  few  if  any  cases  of  death 
from  this  cause  have  been  reported  from  houses  con- 
taining only  one  family.  A  prominent  physician  said 
recently  that  poverty  and  neglect  are  the  true  causes 
of  the  large  mortality  among  children  under  five  years 
of  age.    The  hard  times  and  the  scarcity  of  work  com- 


38 


NEW  YORK. 


pel  the  mothers  to  search  for  work,  to  labor  from  morn 
ing  until  night  in  order  to  obtain  the  means  of  bare 
subsistence.  The  infant,  at  the  most  critical  time  of  its 
life,  is  left  to  the  uncertain  care  of  one  of  the  other 
children,  and  is  sure  to  be  neglected.  It  is  scantily  fed, 
and  what  food  it  gets  is  of  such  a  bad  quality  that  in- 
stead of  nourishing  it  only  irritates  the  alimentary  canal. 
The  hot  weather  attacks,  with  its  debilitating  influences, 
the  poorly  fed,  weakened  constitution  of  the  neglected 
child,  and  it  is  hurried  into  its  grave. 

"  There  is  a  large  part  of  this  city — that  covering  the 
central  division  of  the  island,  between  Third  and  Eighth, 
avenues — which  is  considered  by  physicians  to  be  as 
healthy  as  any  part  of  this  country.  This  quarter  is 
well-drained,  and  there  are  very  few  tenements  within 
its  boundaries.  The  mortality  in  this  district  has  always 
been  very  small.  There  have  been  very  few  cases  of 
diphtheria  or  smallpox  reported  within  its  limits,  and 
hardly  any  deaths  from  diarrhoeal  diseases.  On  the  east 
side  of  the  city  tenements  are  thickly  planted,  some  of 
them  being  crowded  with  more  than  fifty  families. 
Here  the  deaths  from  diarrhoeal  diseases  reach  an  ap- 
palling number.  The  infants  three  months  old  die  in 
hosts,  and  those  from  nine  to  twelve  months  of  age,  to- 
gether with  those  who  are  passing  through  the  period 
of  dentition,  perish  in  large  numbers.  On  the  west 
side  of  the  city,  also,  there  are  many  large  and  badly 
constructed  tenements,  where  the  mortality  has  always 
been  very  great  in  hot  weather. 

''Physicians  who  attend  the  sick  in  the  tenements  give 
pitiful  statements  of  poverty  and  want  that  prevail  so 
largely.    One  physician  said  that  he  had  a  case  where 


UPWARD  GROWTH  OF  THE  CITY. 


39 


the  infant  each  day  was  fed  upon  only  one  tablespoon- 
ful  of  condensed  milk  dissolved  in  a  quart  of  water. 
It  lived  upon  this  daily  supply  for  six  months,  growing 
thinner  daily,  and  then  died.  The  mothers,  he  added, 
are  not  able  to  supply  their  offspring  with  natural  food, 
in  which  case  the  infant  is  fed  upon  condensed  milk, 
for  they  are  so  poorly  fed  themselves  that  they  can  give 
little  nourishment  to  their  children.  In  either  case, 
what  should  be  nourishment  is  only  an  irritant,  and  the 
child  dies  of  some  one  of  the  many  forms  of  diarrhoeal 
disease.  In  the  tenement  districts  it  is  easy  to  point 
out  the  infants  that  are  rapidly  passing  into  their  graves 
from  the  want  of  proper  nourishment.  Their  faces 
look  pinched  and  drawn.  Besides  the  want  of  proper 
nourishment,  neglect  of  cleanliness  and  want  of  suit- 
able clothing  add  to  the  other  causes  that  are  hurrying 
so  many  to  death." 

New  York  grows  rapidly.  In  spite  of  the  trying 
times  that  have  afflicted  the  whole  country  since  the 
panic  of  1873,  the  cit^^  has  grown  steadily,  and  has 
improved  in  a  marked  degree.  One  of  the  most  not- 
able features  of  this  growth  is  the  upward  tendency  of 
the  new  structures.  Land  is  so  dear  that  property 
owners  endeavor  to  build  as  lofty  edifices  as  their 
means  will  permit,  in  order  to  offset  the  lack  of  ground 
and  space.  An  old  resident  of  the  city  writes  as  fol- 
lows concerning  this  feature  of  New  York  architecture: 

"The  manner  in  which  New  York  city  has  grown 
upward,  or  rather  skyward,  during  the  past  ten  and 
Mt^^vi  years,  has  heretofore  attracted  the  attention  of 
visitors  to  the  American  metropolis.  It  is  just  now  a 
subject  of  considerable  discussion  among  architects 


40 


NEW  YORK. 


and  builders,  who  are  busily  engaged  in  drawing  plans 
for  numerous  new  buildings  to  be  erected  within  the 
city  precincts  during  the  coming  twelve  months,  now 
that  labor  and  material  are  cheaper  than  they  have 
been  for  several  years.  This  growth  of  New  York  in 
altitude  is  particularly  noticeable  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  city,  from  the  Battery  to  Canal  street,  where  high 
buildings,  averaging  ninety  to  one  hundred  feet,  have 
taken  the  place  of  small  structures  and  of  those  not 
higher  than  forty-five  to  fifty  feet.  Some  eight  years 
ago,  as  one  looked  from  the  ferry-boats  of  either  the 
North  or  East  River,  or  from  the  bay,  the  then  new 
Herald  Building,  on  Broadway,  towered  many  feet 
above  the  mass  of  adjoining  structures.  Now  it  is  in- 
distinguishable from  either  point  named,  the  neighbor- 
ing buildings  entirely  overshadowing  it. 

"This  growth  of  New  York  thus  illustrated  in  height 
is  attributed  by  the  architects  to  the  high  price  at  which 
«ach  foot  of  real  estate  is  held  all  over  the  island,  and 
notably  in  the  lower  section  of  the  city;  but  it  has  also 
been  greatly  facilitated  by  the  use  of  elevators,  which 
enable  some  of  the  most  prominent  firms  to  occupy 
offices  on  the  fourth  and  fifth  floors,  and  even  higher 
floors,  where  only  a  few  years  ago  they  would  not  en- 
tertain the  idea  of  asking  their  customers  to  call  upon 
them  above  the  second  story.  This  "mania"  for  high 
buildings,  which  the  architects  as  yet  regard  only*  in  its 
infancy,  is,  however,  not  original  with  New  York;  the 
new  part  of  the  city  of  Edinburgh,  in  Scotland,  being 
full  of  buildings  ten  and  eleven'  stories  high.  There, 
however,  the  stories  do  not  average  over  nine  feet, 
while  high  basements  and  ^ub-cellars,  like  those  of  New 


ARCHITECTURAL  CHANGES. 


41 


York,  are  unknown.  Old  architects  state  that  they  caa 
hardly  conceive  the  wonderful  changes,  wrought  mainly 
by  their  own  hands,  on  taking  a  retrospect  of  the  city 
of  their  youth,  and  they  stand  amazed  at  the  giant 
structures  rising  all  over  the  city  to  take  the  place  of 
buildings  which  less  than  twenty  years  ago  were  con- 
sidered ornaments  of  New  York.  Forty  years  ago, 
when  Griffith  Thomas  arrived  in  New  York,  he  says  he 
found  only  two  architects  here,  Messrs.  Dacon  and 
Davis.  To-day  there  are  about  five  hundred  architects 
in  this  city ;  and  the  practice,  then  quite  general,  of  a 
builder's  making  his  own  plans  and  designs  is  entirely 
abandoned.  Thirty  years  ago  Mr.  Renwick,  then  only 
twenty- three  years  old,  built  Grace  Church,  at  Tenth 
street  and  Broadway,  as  the  building,  forty  feet  high, 
formerly  occupied  by  that  congregation  at  Rector  street 
and  Broadway  had  to  be  changed  into  offices;  it  was 
in  1846  that  Dr.  Wainwright  and  Dr.  Taylor  preached 
their  last  sermons  in  the  old  church,  which  was  soon 
changed  to  an  eighty-feet  building.  In  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  old  Grace  Church  used  to  stand  Bunker's. 
Hotel,  a  well-known  landmark  of  the  time.  It  was 
surrounded  by  buildings  all  three  stories  high ;  to-day 
not  a  vestige  remains  of  any  of  these  small  buildings, 
and  the  lower  part  of  Broadway  is  filled  with  structures 
ranging  from  six  to  seven  stories.  One  of  the  highest 
residences  of  New  York,  on  Broadway,  at  the  time 
named  was  the  house  occupied  by  John  F.  Delaplaine. 
It  was  forty-five  feet  high,  and  considerably  over- 
shadowed the  adjoining  two-story  residence.  The 
ground  is  to-day  occupied  by  what  is  known  as  the 
Exchange  Building,  at  Nos.  78  and  80  Broadway,  which 


42 


NEW  YORK. 


is  filled  with  offices,  and  is  not  less  than  eighty-five  feet 
high.  The  Franklin  House — which  was  considered  a 
rather  high  building,  being  sixty  feet  in  height — at  Dey 
street,  and  Broadway,  has  had  to  make  room  for  the 
building  of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Company, 
which  is  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  in  height  to  the 
roof  (the  tower  being  two  hundred  and  thirty  feet 
above  the  sidewalk).  On  the  other  side  of  Broadway, 
the  Park  Bank  Building,  ninety-five  feet  high,  has  now 
for  several  years  overlapped  The  Herald  office,  and 
these  two  again  have  been  recently  overtopped  by  the 
nine-story  building  of  The  Evening  Post. 

"On  the  side  streets,  the  same  principle  of  building 
upward  appears  to  have  guided  the  various  improve- 
ments, even  the  old  Tontine  Building,  at  Wall  and  Wa- 
ter streets,  having  been  raised  fifteen  feet  higher  than 
it  was  formerly,  when  the  old  coffee-house  attracted  the 
attention  and  the  cash  of  old  New  Yorkers.  The  staid 
old  Bank  of  New  York,  at  William  and  Wall  streets,, 
where  Commodore  Vanderbilt  could  always  be  found  at 
certain  hours  of  the  day,  during  his  latter  years,  is  now 
a  six-story  building,  where  before  only  two  stories  were 
considered  ample  accommodation  for  all  those  trans- 
acting business  within  its  walls.  The  Drexel  Building, 
at  Broad  and  Wall  streets,  with  its  high  basement  and 
seven  stories,  looms  up  gigantically  on  the  spot  where 
only  a  few  years  ago  stood  an  unpretending  three-story 
building — which,  however,  was  sold  for  the  highest  price 
ever  paid  for  real  estate  in  New  York — while  the  Stock 
Exchange,  right  across  Broad  street,  is  fully  eighty-five 
feet  high,  and  has  taken  the  place  of  a  number  of  brick 
stores  thirty  feet  less  in  height.    The  beautiful  white 


EVENING  POST  BUILDING. 


NEW  YORK. 


marble  building  at  Nos.  50  and  52  Wall  street,  is  now 
eighty  feet  high,  while  it  measured  only  sixty  a  few 
years  bap k ;  while  the  Union  Bank,  at  Pine  and  William 
streets,  has  had  its  height  increased  twenty  feet.  The 
Metropolitan  Bank,  on  the  corner  of  Pine  street,  is 


odd-fellows'  hall. 


building  eighty  feet  high,  and  stands  upon  a  lot  previ- 
ously occupied  by  a  house  of  fifty  feet. 

"The  corner  of  Leonard  street  and  Broadway  used 
to  be  marked  by  the  old  Athenaeum,  with  its  peculiar 
pillars  and  low  ceilings.    Messrs.  Appleton  had  their 


STATELY  BUILDINGS.  45 

place  of  business  there'  for  some  time,  and  removed  to 
njake  room  for  the  stately  building  now  owned  and 
occupied  by  the  New  York  Life  Insurance  Company. 
This  building,  erected  by  Thomas  and  finished  in  1868, 
has  four  stories  in  front  and  eight  in  the  back,  and  part 
of  it  stands  on  very  high  ground.  The  Knickerbocker 
Life  Insurance  Company's  building  on  the  corner  of 


KEW  YORK  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPANY'S  BUILDING. 

Park  Place  is  ninety-five  feet  high,  and  has  taken 
the  place  of  some  four-story  brick  houses,  where  the 
Mechanics'  Library  Association,  in  times  past,  kept  its 
books  and  held  its  meetings. 

"  But  not  only  are  there  high  buildings  occupied  by 
public  institutions,  insurance  companies,  banks,  and 
newspaper  offices;  throughout  the  lower  part  of  the 


46 


NEW  YORK. 


city  there  are  many  buildings  six  and  seven,  often  eight 
stories  high,  used  as  warehouses,  especially  by  dry 
goods  firms.  In  Walker  street,  between  Cortlandt 
alley  and  Elm  street,  are  several  six  and  seven-story 
buildings  on  the  ground  where  once  stood  the  St 
Matthew's  (German  Lutheran)  Church.  The  stores  at 
Nos.  555  and  557  Broadway,  ninety  feet  high,  have 
taken  the  place  of  several  very  diminutive  establish- 
ments, and  the  upholsterers'  warehouse  of  Sloane  and 
Solomon  are  also  ninety  feet  high,  instead  of  the  three 
story  buildings  of  fifteen  years  ago.  Baxter's  high 
building  of  six  stories  and  mansard  roof,  at  Canal  and 
Mulberry  streets,  has  taken  the  place  of  numerous 
small  shanties,  which  looked  anything  but  attractive 
before  East  Canal  street  was  made  the  street  it  is  to-day. 
On  the  spot  where  Samuel  Ward,  "  the  King  of  the 
Lobby,"  was  born,  in  the  two-story  and  attic  building 
erected  by  his  father,  John  Ward,  is  now  the  establish- 
ment of  Brooks  Brothers,  fully  ninety-five  feet  high, 

"The  corner  of  Fourteenth  street  and  Union  Square, 
where  once  stood  the  residence  of  the  late  Judge  Roose* 
velt's  brother,  fifty  feet  in  height,  is  now  occupied  by 
the  Domestic  Building,  which  is  one  hundred  and  twelve 
feet  high.  A  few  doors  west,  the  new  building  of  the 
Wheeler  and  Wilson  Manufacturing  Company,  one 
hundred  feet  high,  has  taken  the  place  of  the  Old 
Maison  Doree,  which  was  a  low  building  not  over  forty- 
five  feet  in  height.  Tiffany's  store,  at  Fifteenth  street 
and  Union  Square,  with  its  roof  ninety  feet  from  the 
sidewalk,  fills  the  place  formerly  occupied  by  the  Rev, 
Dr.  Cheever's  Church — the  Church  of  the  Puritans — 
the  roof  of  which  was  only  thirty-five  feet  from  the 


DOMESTIC  SEWTXG  MACHINE  BUIT.DING. 


48 


NEW  YORK. 


ground.  Across  the  Square,  on  the  corner  of  Eas? 
Fourteenth  street,  the  German  Savings  Bank  building 
of  ninety  feet,  with  its  mansard  and  high  basement, 
has  replaced  the  old  Belvidere  Hotel,  while  a  block 
further  up,  on  the  corner  of  East  Fifteenth  street,  the 

Union  Square  Hotel, 
remodeled,  has  had  forty 
feet  added  to  its  height. 
The  building  owned  by 
the  Singer  Sewing  Ma- 
chine Company,  at  East 
Sixteenth  street  and 
Union  Square,  is  nearly 
one  hundred  feet  high, 
while  looking  beyond 
the  Square,  the  eye 
takes  in  at  once  the 
prominent  store  of  Ar- 
nold, Constable  &  Co., 
filling  the  entire  block 
between  Eighteenth 
and  Nineteenth  streets, 
on  the  ground  where 
only  a  very  few  years 
ago  stood  nothing  but 
two-story  shanties. 
"  Further  up  town  the 
Stevens  Apartment  House,  at  Twenty-seventh  street 
and  Fifth  avenue,  attracts  attention  by  its  extraordinary 
height,  one  hundred  and  ten  feet,  where  before  stood 
only  three  and  four-story  houses,  and  on  the  corner  of 
Forty-seventh  street  a  number  of  three-stor)^  houses 


TRIBUNE  BUILDING. 


t 


REMARKABLE  HEIGHT  OF  BUILDINGS.  49 

have  made  room  for  Brewster's  high  factory,  of  eighty 
feet.  It  is  doubtful  if  any  new  buildings  up  town  will 
surpass  in  height  the  new  Roman  Catholic  Cathedral, 
which  is  one  hundred  and  forty-five  feet  to  the  top  of 
the  roof. 

In  order  to  show  the  upward  progress  made  in  the 
'  growth  of  New  York  during  the  past  ten  years,  build- 
ings like  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  Grand  Opera  House, 


Claflin's  Warehouses,  and  others,  have  been  omiu-ed 
from  this  enumeration.  These  were  erected  at  inter- 
vals, and  not  in  such  rapid  succession,  as,  for  instance, 
the  Equitable  Life  Building  with  its  one  hundred  and 
sixty-four  feet  of  height,  'The  Tribune  Building*  of 
one  hundred  and  seventy-one  feet,  'The  Evening  Post,* 
with  its  nine  stories,  'The  Staats-Zeitung,'  with  its 
one  hundred  feet,  and  the  building  of  the  Delaware 

4 


50 


NEW  YORK. 


and  Hudson  Canal  Company,  in  Cortlandt  street 
All  these,  taken  in  connection  with  those  mentioned 
above,  have  fully  doubled  the  capacity  of  New  York  for 
accommodating  all  those  who  desire  to  transact  business 
within  its  borders,  while  at  the  same  time  not  an  inch 
more  ground  has  been  taken  for  that  purpose  than  was 
the  case  before  this  increase  in  altitude  set  in.  On  the  ^ 
contrary,  it  is  believed  that,  owing  to  the  widening  of 
streets,  like  South  Fifth  avenue  and  New  Church  street, 
as  well  as  New  Chambers  street  and  the  New  Bowery, 
there  is  actually  to-day  less  ground  occupied  by  build- 
mgs,  small  and  large,  down  town,  than  fifteen  years  ago. 
And  yet  there  is  considerably  more  room  for  all  pur^ 
poses  of  business." 


RAPID  GROWTH  IN  POPULATION. 


51 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  NEW  YORK. 

SVPULATION  OF  NEW  YORK  IN  187O— THE  STATE  CENSUS  OF  1875— WHAT  CHANGES  IT  SHOWHI>— POPtV 

IJVTION  IN  1880  POPULATION  AFFECTED  BY  THE  IMPROVEMENTS  IN  THE  LOWER  PART  OF  THB 

CITY— THE   MOST  DENSELY  SETTLED   PART  OF  NEW   YORK — THE  FLOATING   POPULATION — 

STRANGERS  IN  NEW  YORKr— FOREIGN  DISTRICTS  COSMOPOLITAN  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

 CHARACTERISTICS  OF  NEW  YORKERS — L.\CK  OF  PUBLIC  SPIRIT— INDIFFERENCE  TO  POLITI- 
CAL AFFAIRS — THE  RESULT — THE  RACE  FOR  WEALTH — HOW  BUSINESS  IS  DONE  IN  NEW  YORK — 
WEARING  OUT  BODY  AND  SOUL — A  PHILOSOPHICAL  MERCHANT — A  NEW  COMER'S  IMPRESSIONS 
— LIVING  TOO  FAST— NO  CHANCE  FOR  LAGGARDS — HOW  SUCCESS  IS  WON— MERIT  THE  TEST — 

NEW  YORK  FROM  A  MORAL  POINT  OF  VIEW — ITS  CHARITIES  AND  BENEVOLENCE  TOLERATION 

OF  OPINIONS  AND  BELIEFS — MENTAL  CULTURE  OF  THE  PEOPLE — WHAT  IT  COSTS  TO  LIVE  III 
NEW  YORK — THE  RICH  AND  THE  MIDDLE  CLASSES— NEW  YORK  AS  A  PLACE  OF  RESIDENCE-- 
ATTACHMENT  OF  THE  PEOPLE  TO  THE  CITY. 

According-  to  the  Ninth  Census  of  the  United  States 
the  population  of  New  York  in  1870  was  973,106  souls. 
This  return  was  not  satisfactory  to  the  citizens  of  the 
Metropolis,  who  claimed  that  it  greatly  under-estimated 
the  actual  number  of  residents.  In  the  summer  of  1875 
a  census  of  the  city  was  taken,  by  order  of  the  Legis- 
lature of  the  State.  This  enumeration  showed  the 
population  in  that  year  to  be  1,064,272,  an  increase  of 
91,166  inhabitants  since  1870.  In  1880,  the  Tenth  Cen- 
sus of  the  United  States  gave  the  population  as  1,209, 

561. 

The  census  of  1875  deeply  interesting,  imper- 

fect as  it  was  conceded  to  be.  It  showed  many  changes 
in  various  portions  of  the  city,  recording  a  gain  for 
some  sections  and  a  decrease  for  others.  The  falling 
off  was  mainly  in  the.  lower  wards,  where  business 
houses  predominate.  In  the  strictly  commercial  quar- 
ters dwellings  are  very  rare,  and  the  population  is  made 
Up  almost  entirely  of  janitors  and  their  families,  who 


52 


NEW  YORK. 


occupy  the  upper  floors  of  business  houses  and  public 
buildings.  The  population  of  the  Sixth  Ward  was 
shown  to  be  iioo  less  in  1875  than  in  1870.  In  1880 
it  had  regained  about  150  of  its  loss.  This  is  one  of 
the  most  wretched  and  wicked  sections  of  the  city;  "the 
Five  Points  "  is  its  centre.  For  some  years  it  has  been 
improving  in  character,  though  the  Five  Points  "  and  • 
Baxter  street  are  bad  enough  yet.  During  the  past 
ten  or  twelve  years  many  of  its  old  haunts  have  been 
broken  up,  numerous  factories  and  business  establish- 
ments have  been  erected  on  their  sites,  and  Worth 
street  has  been  widened  and  opened  from  Broadway  to 
the  Bowery,  making  a  clear,  wide  path  through  what 
was  once  an  eyesore  to  the  city  and  a  chosen  haunt  of 
vice  and  crime.  In  1875  the  greatest  increase  was  in 
the  wards  adjoining  the  Central  Park,  in  which  the  gain 
was  over  fifty  thousand,  and  in  1880  the  increase  was 
proportionally  larger.  This  is  accounted  for  by  the 
steady  up-town  movement  of  the  population,  which  will 
no  doubt  be  greatly  accelerated  by  the  elevated  rail- 
roads, which  now  bring  all  parts  of  the  city  within  easy 
and  rapid  reach  of  each  other.  The  largest  increase 
of  all,  in  1875,  was  in  the  Nineteenth  Ward,  which  lies 
east  of  the  Sixth  avenue,  and  between  Fortieth  and 
Eightieth  streets.  In  1870  the  population  of  this 
ward  was  86,090,  in  1875  it  was  125,196,  showing  an 
increase  of  39,106  in  five  years.  In  1880  it  had  reached 
the  enormous  figure  of  158,108  inhabitants,  thus  gain- 
ing 32,912  people  since  1875,      72,018  in  ten  years. 

The  most  densely  populated  portion  of  New  York 
is  the  region  embraced  in  the  Seventh,  Tenth,  and 
Thirteenth  wards,  which  lie  upon  either  side  of  East 


ACTUAL  POPULATION  OF  THE  CITY. 


53 


Broadway  and  Grand  street,  in  the  extreme  lower  part 
of  the  city,  and  cover  a  comparatively  small  area.  In 
1870  these  wards  contained  119,603  inhabitants,  and  a 
further  increase  seemed  impossible,  so  densely  were 
they  packed.  Yet  in  1875  the  population  numbered 
124,093,  and  in  1880  it  was  135,456.  It  is  believed 
that  some  of  the  blocks  within  this  section  are  more 
densely  populated  than  those  of  any  European  city. 
Yet  in  ten  years  the  increase  of  the  district  was 
15.843- 

The  census  of  1875,  as  has  been  said,  did  not  fairly 
represent  the  population  of  the  city  at  that  time.  It 
was  taken  in  the  summer,  when  large  numbers  of  peo- 
ple were  absent,  and  it  was  asserted  that  many  of  the 
persons  entrusted  with  making  enumerations  were 
incompetent  to  their  task.  The  census  of  1880  was 
taken  with  more  care,  and  more  faithfully  represents 
the  actual  number  of  inhabitants. 

In  a  fair  estimate  of  the  people  of  New  York,  one 
must  add  to  the  number  of  actual  residents,  the  stran- 
gers temporarily  residing  in  the  metropolis,  and  the  im- 
mense number  of  persons  who  enter  and  leave  the  city 
every  day  in  the  year.  It  is  estimated  that  there  are  more 
than  seventy  thousand  strangers  from  distant  parts  of 
the  country  temporarily  sojourning  in  New  Yo-rk  at  all 
periods  of  the  year.  Thousands  of  persons  doing  busi- 
ness in  the  City,  and  residing  in  the  suburbs,  are  not 
counted  in  the  population.  They  come  from  Brooklyn 
and  Long  Island,  from  Staten  Island,  from  the  main- 
land of  New  York,  from  New  Jersey,  and  even  from 
Connecticut.  They  crowd  the  trains  and  the  ferry 
boats,  and  pour  into  the  city  in  the  morning  and  leave 


54 


NEW  YORK. 


it  in  the  afternoon,  with  clock-like  regularity.  To 
these  also  must  be  added  the  persons  of  both  sexes  and 
all  ages,  who  come  into  the  city  to  do  a  day's  shopping, 
or  to  attend  the  matinees  of  the  theatres  and  other 
places  of  amusement,  or  to  visit  friends.  It  is  estimated 
that  at  high  noon,  on  any  fair  day  during  the  season, 
the  Island  of  New  York  contains  at  least  two  millions 
of  people. 

In  1880  the  native  population  was  727,743,  and  the 
foreign  478,834. 

The  annual  number  of  births  in  New  York  is  about 
40,000.    The  number  of  deaths  in  1880  was  31,937. 

The  foreign  classes  generally  congregate  in  distinct 
quarters  of  the  city,  which  they  seem  to  regard  as  their 
own,  as  they  constitute  the  majority  of  the  dwellers  in  these 
iiections,  and  give  to  them  their  leading  characteristics. 
In  certain  portions,  whole  blocks  may  be  found  in  which 
English  is  rarely  heard,  the  dwellers  using  the  tongues 
of  their  native  countries  in  their  intercourse  with  each 
3ther,  and  having  little  communication  with  theil' 
neighbors. 

The  people  of  New  York  represent  every  nation- 
jnlity  upon  the  globe,  and  thus  give  to  the  city  the  cos- 
mopolitan character  which  is  one  of  its  most  prominent 
features.  But  no  city  on  the  continent  is  so  thoroughly 
American  as  this.  The  native  population  is  the  ruling 
element,  and  makes  the  great  city  what  it  is,  whether 
for  good  or  for  evil.  The  children  and  grandchildren 
of  foreigners  soon  lose  their  old  world  ideas  and  habits, 
and  the  third  generation  sees  them  as  genuine  and  de- 
voted Americans  as  any  on  the  Island. 

The  besetting  sin  of  the  people  of  New  York  is  their 


THE  RACE  FOR  WEALTH. 


55 


lack  of  public  spirit.  The  race  for  wealth,  the  very 
struggle  for  existence,  is  so  eager  and  intense  here, 
that  the  people  think  little  of  public  affairs,  and  leave 
their  city  government,  with  all  its  vast  interests,  in  the 
hands  of  a  few  professional  politicians.  They  pay 
dearly  for  this  neglect  of  such  important  interests. 
They  are  taxed  and  plundered  by  rings  and  tricksters, 
and  are  forced  to  bear  burdens  and  submit  to  losses 
which  could  be  avoided  by  a  more  patriotic  and  sen- 
sible treatment  of  their  affairs.  Business  men  here  re- 
gard the  time  spent  in  casting  their  votes  at  the  polls, 
or  in  arranging  a  political  canvass  so  that  good  men 
only  shall  be  secured  for  public  officers,  as  so  much 
time  lost.  They  say  they  cannot  afford  to  take  it  from 
their  business.  The  result  is  they  are  put  to  greater 
loss  by  unnecessary  and  unjust  taxes. 

The  race  for  wealth  is  a  very  exciting  one  in  the 
great  city.  The  interests  at  stake  are  so  vast,  the 
competition  so  constant  and  close,  that  men  are  com- 
pelled to  be  on  the  watch  all  the  time,  and  to  work 
with  rapidity  and  almost  without  rest.  Business  hours 
are  from  nine  until  five.  In  the  larger  establishments 
but  little  is  done  after  four  o'clock,  except  at  certain 
seasons.  During  these  seven  or  eight  hours  the  work 
of  twenty-four  is  done.  Every  nerve,  every  muscle, 
every  power  and  faculty  of  body  and  mind,  is  taxed  to 
the  utmost  to  discharge  the  duty  of  the  day.  Go  into 
any  of  the  large  establishments  of  the  city  during  busi- 
ness hours,  and  you  will  be  amazed  at  the  ceaseless 
rush  and  push  of  clerks  and  customers.  It  is  one  un- 
ending drive.  Everything  must  be  finished  up  to  the 
closing  hour,  so  that  the  morrow  may  be  begun  with  a 


■    66  NEW  YORK. 

series  of  new  and  clear  transactions.  Merchants  from 
other  cities  coming  into  these  establishments  to  •make 
purchases,  find  themselves  caught  in  this  whirl  of  work, 
and  are  carried  along  and  made  to  decide  questions 
and  make  purchases  with  a  rapidity  utterly  unknown 
to  them  in  their  own  homes. 

Two  merchants  from  a  Western  city  met  one  nighty 
not  long  since,  in  the  sitting-room  of  the  St.  Nicholas 
Hotel. 

How  do  you  get  on  with  your  purchases?"  asked 
one  of  the  other. 

I  am  through  buying,"  was  the  reply. 

"Going  home  to-morrow,  then,  I  suppose?" 

"  No ;  I  shall  not  do  so  for  several  days  yet.  The 
truth  is  I  am  tired,  and  I  want  to  rest.  I  used  to  go 
back  home  as  soon  as  I  had  finished  my  business  here, 
and  when  I  got  there  I  invariably  found  myself  too 
tired  to  do  anything  for  several  days.  I  couldn't  un- 
derstand it.  It  was  the  same  thing  year  after  year, 
and  I  set  to  work  to  think  it  out.  I  know  now  that  it 
is  the  effect  of  the  hard  work  I  do  here  in  a  few  days. 
I  come  here,  stay  a  week,  and  during  that  time  do  an 
amount  of  work,  both  physical  and  mental,  greater 
than  I  would  undergo  in  a  month  at  home.  Now,  in- 
stead of  going  home  as  soon  as  I  am  done,  I  stay  here 
and  rest ;  go  out  to  the  Central  Park,  and  loaf  for  a 
whole  afternoon ;  take  a  ride  on  the  steamer  up  the 
East  River;  go  down  to  Coney  Island,  or  down  the 
Bay,  and  amuse  myself  in  every  way  I  can.  Then  I 
go  home  bright  and  fresh,  and  able-  to  take  hold  of  my 
work  there  properly." 

The  clerks  in  the  large  houses  of  the  city  have  a 


LIVING  TOO  FAST.    .  57 

weary,  jaded  look,  always.  The  heads  of  the  houses 
have  the  same  expression  intensified.  They  are  always 
tired.  They  crowd  too  much  work  into  a  day.  The 
result  is  that  New  York  can  show  comparatively  few 
old  merchants  or  clerks.  They  cannot  always  stand 
the  strain  upon  them,  and  die  off  by  hundreds,  at  a  time 
of  life  when  they  ought  to  be  looking  forward  to  a 
hearty  old  age. 

A  gentleman  once  said  to  the  writer  of  these  pages : 
*'  I  came  to  New  York  at  the  close  of  our  civil  war,  to 
seek  employment.  I  came  up  the  Bay  from  Monmouth 
County,  New  Jersey,  full  of  hope  and  confidence.  The 
sail  up  the  broad  blue  water  gave  new  life  to  this  feel- 
ing. I  knew  I  was  competent,  and  I  was  resolved  to  suc- 
ceed. I  landed  at  Pier  Number  One,  near  the  Battery, 
and  taking  up  my  valise  started  up  town.  I  turned 
into  Broadway  at  the  Bowling  Green,  and  as  I  did  so, 
found  myself  in  a  steady  stream  of  human  beings,  each 
hurrying  by  as  if  his  life  depended  upon  his  speed,  tak- 
ing no  notice  of  his  fellows,  pushing  and  jostling  them, 
and  each  with  a  weary,  jaded,  anxious  look  upon  his 
face.  As  I  gazed  at  this  mighty  torrent  I  was  dis- 
mayed.  I  got  as  far  as  Trinity  Churchyard,  and  then 
I  put  my  valise  upon  the  pavement,  and  leaning  against 
the  railing,  watched  the  people  as  they  passed  me  by. 
They  came  by  hundreds,  thousands,  all  with  that  eager, 
restless  gait  that  I  now  know  so  well,  all  with  the  weary, 
anxious,  care-worn  expressjon  I  have  mentioned,  as  if 
trying  to  reach  some  distant  goal  within  a  given  time. 
They  seemed  to  say  to  me,  'We  would  gladly  stop  if  we 
could,  and  rest  by  the  way ;  but  we  must  go  on,  on,  and 
know  no  rest.'    I  asked  myself, '  What  chance  have  I 


58 


NEW  YORK. 


here  ?  Can  I  keep  up  with  this  eager,  restless  throng,  or 
will  they  pass  me,  and  leave  me  behind  ?  '  Well,"  he 
added,  with  a  smile,  "  I  have  managed  to  keep  up  with 
them,  but  I  tell  you  it's  a  hard  strain.  We  are  all  living 
too  fast ;  we  are  working  too  hard.  Instead  of  taking 
a  leisurely  stroll  to  our  business  in  the  morning,  we 
rush  down  town  at  a  furious  pace.  We  grind,  grind  at 
our  treadmills  all  day,  and  grind  too  hard.  We  bolt 
our  meals  in  a  fourth  of  the  time  we  should  give  to 
them ;  we  rush  back  home  at  night  as  furiously  as  we 
left  it  in  the  morning,  and  our  evenings  are  spent  in  an 
effort  to  keep  up  the  excitement  of  the  day.  We  are 
living  too  fast,  too  hard.  We  break  down  long  before 
we  should.  This  haste,  this  furious  pace  at  which  we 
are  going,  at  business,  at  pleasure,  at  everything,  is  the 
great  curse  of  New  York  life." 

Now  my  friend's  opinion  is  shared  by  hundreds, 
thousands  of  the  most  sensible  men  of  the  city,  but 
they  are  powerless  to  save  themselves  from  the  curse 
they  know  to  be  upon  them.  Should  they  attempt  to 
go  more  slowly,  to  live  more  reasonably,  they  would  be 
left  behind  in  the  race  for  wealth ;  they  would  fail  in 
their  hopes  and  plans.  So  they  must  join  the  crowd, 
and  rush  on  and  on,  seeking  the  glittering  prize  of 
wealth  and  fame,  well  knowing  all  the  time  that,  in  all 
probability,  when  they  have  grasped  it  tired  nature  will 
give  way  and  leave  them  incapable  of  enjoying  it,  if 
indeed  they  do  not  die  before  attaining  their  end. 

The  common  opinion  that  New  York  is  the  paradise 
of  humbugs  and  tricksters  is  untrue.  These  people 
do  abound  here,  beyond,  a  doubt ;  but  they  are  short- 
lived.   They  flourish  to-day  and  are  gone  to-morrow. 


MERIT  WINS  IN  NEW  YORK. 


59 


They  take  no  root,  and  have  no  hold  upon  any  genuine 
interest ;  they  attain  no  permanent  success.  It  is  only 
genuine  merit  that  succeeds  in  the  great  city.  Men  are 
here  subjected  to  a  test  that  soon  takes  the  conceit 
out  of  them.  They  are  taken  for  just  what  they  are 
worth,  and  no  more,  and  he  must  show  himself  a  man 
indeed  who  would  take  his  place  among  the  princes  of 
trade,  or  among  the  leaders  of  thought  and  opinion. 
He  may  bring  with  him  from  his  distant  home  the 
brightest  of  reputations,  but  here  he  will  have  to  begin 
at  the  very  bottom  of  the  ladder  and  mount  upward 
again.  It  is  slow  work,  so  slow  that  it  tries  every 
quality  of  true  manhood  to  its  utmost.  The  daily  life 
of  the  dwellers  in  the  great  city  makes  them  keen, 
i?hrewd  judges  of  human  nature,  and  they  are  pro- 
ficients in  the  art  of  studying  character. 
.  It  is  said  that  New  York  is  the  wickedest  city  in  the 
country.  It  is  the  largest,  and  vice  thrives  in  crowded 
communities.  How  great  this  wickedness  is  we  may 
see  in  the  subsequent  portions  of  this  work.  Yet,  if  it 
is  the  wickedest  city,  it  is  also  the  best  on  the  Conti- 
nent. If  it  contains  thousands  of  the  worst  men  and 
women  in  our  land,  it  contains  also  thousands  of  the 
brightest  and  best  of  Christians.  In  point  of  morality, 
it  will  compare  favorably  with  any  city  in  the  world. 
It  is  unhappily  true  that  the  devil's  work  is  done  here 
upon  a  large  scale  ;  but  so  is  the  work  of  God,  upon 
an  even  greater  scale.  If  the  city  contains  the  gaudi-, 
est,  the  most  alluring,  and  the  vilest  haunts  of  sin,  it 
also  boasts  the  noblest  and  grandest  institutions  of 
religion,  of  charity,  and  virtue.    Being  the  great  centre 


60 


NEW  YORK. 


of  wealth  and  culture,  New  York  is  also  the  centre  of 
everything  that  is  good  and  beautiful  in  life. 

In  its  charities,  New  York  is,  as  in  other  respects, 
the  leading  city  of  the  Continent.  It  maintains  its  own 
charitable  and  benevolent  institutions  with  a  liberality, 
and  upon  a  scale  of  magnificence  and  comfort, 
unequaled  in  other  parts  of  the  country.  It  spends 
millions  to  relieve  suffering  and  disease  within  its  own 
limits,  and  at  the  same  time  lends  an  open  ear  and  a  ready 
hand  to  the  cry  of  distress  from  other  quarters.  There 
is  no  portion  of  the  globe  to  which  the  charity  of  New 
York  does  not  extend ;  and  when  it  gives,  it  gives  lib* 
erally.  When  the  yellow  fever  laid  its  heavy  hand 
opon  the  Southern  States  during  the  summer  of  1878, 
it  was  to  New  York  that  the  sufferers  first  turned  for 
aid ;  and  the  Metropolis  responded  nobly.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  months  assistance  in  money  and  sup- 
plies was  sent  to  the  amount  of  several  hundred  thous- 
and dollars.  During  the  recent  war  between  Russia 
and  Turkey,  New  York,  with  characteristic  liberality, 
sent  crenerous  assistance  to  the  sick  and  wounded  of 
both  armies.  When  Chicago  was  burned,  the  people 
of  New  York  literally  showered  relief  upon  the  afilicted 
citizens  of  the  western  Metropolis.  It  is  enough  for 
the  great  city  to  hear  the  cry  of  distress,  no  matter 
froni  what  quarter ;  its  action  is  prompt  and  generous. 
The  city  authorities  annually  expend  one  million  of 
dollars  in  public  charities,  while  the  various  religious 
denominations  and  charitable  associations  expend  annu- 
ally about  five  millions  more.  No  record  can  be  had 
of  private  charities — but  they  are  large.  This  is  the 
charity  that  begins  at  home.    Of  the  aid  sent  to  suffer- 


COSMOPOLITAN  LIBERALITY. 


61 


ingf  persons  and  communities  in  other  parts  of  the 
country  no  proper  estimate  can  be  made ;  the  sum  is 
princely,  and  we  may  be  sure  is  recorded  above. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  energy  of  the  people  in  matters 
of  business.  They  are  in  all  respects  the  most  enter- 
prising in  the  Union.  While  others  are  timid  and 
hesitating,  they  are  bold  and  self-reliant.  They  take 
risks  in  business  from  which  others  shrink,  and  carry 
their  ventures  forward  with  a  resolution  and  vigor  that 
cannot  fail  of  success.  It  is  this  that  has  made  the  city 
the  metropolis  of  America.  Its  people  take  a  large, 
liberal  view  of  matters.  There  is  nothing  narrow  or 
provincial  in  their  way  of  dealing  with  questions. 
They  are  cosmopolitan  in  all  things. 

This  liberality  extends  to  matters  of  opinion.  Mer 
rarely  trouble  themselves  to  inquire  into  a  neighbor's 
views  of  religion  or  politics,  or  to  hold  him  to  accoun^t 
for  them.  One  may  think  as  he  pleases  here,  and  so 
long  as  he  observes  the  ordinary  rules  of  decent  living 
he  will  retain  his  place  in  society.  Christian,  Jew, 
Turk,  Heathen,  all  mingle  together  in  pleasant  social 
intercourse,  careless  of  each  other's  opinions,  and 
taking  each  other  for  just  what  the  individual  man  is 
worth.  And  so  it  is  in  politics.  The  most  decided 
political  antagonists  may  be  in  private  life  intimate 
friends.  New  York  cares  nothing  for  individual  opin- 
ions. It  welcomes  every  man,  and  uses  him  as  best  it 
can. 

Indeed,  this  indifference  is  carried  to  such  an  excess 
that  men  often  live  by  each  other,  as  next-door  neigh- 
bors, for  years,  without  interchanging  salutations  or 
holding  any  neighborly  intercourse  at  all.    It  may  be 


62 


NEW  YORK. 


said  that  this  prevents  gossip  and  adds  to  the  pri- 
vacy of  one's  domestic  affairs;  but  at  the  same  time  it 
breeds  an  amount  of  coldness  between  people  and 
prevents  the  pleasantness  of  neighborly  intercourse, 
which  is  not  in  all  respects  desirable. 

In  mental  culture  the  people  of  New  York  compare 
favorably  with  those  of  any  American  city.  The  con- 
ditions of  success  in  the  various  pursuits  of  life  require 
and  develop  the  highest  order  of  intelligence.  Every 
faculty  of  the  human  being  is  sharpened  in  the  struggle 
for  mere  existence.  In  addition  to  this,  the  surround- 
ings of  the  people  contribute  daily  and  almost  imper- 
ceptibly to  their  culture.  The  magnificent  streets,  the 
imposing  buildings,  the  rare  and  beautiful  displays  in 
the  shops  of  the  city,  all  go  to  cultivate  the  taste  and 
impart  knowledge  to  the  people  who  behold  them. 
The  libraries  are  extensive  and  well  patronized ;  the 
theatrical  displays  and  other  amusements  are  upon  the 
most  elaborate  and  imposing  scale ;  and  the  schools 
and  educational  institutions  are  among  the  most  excel- 
lent in  the  world.  Those  who  have  leisure  for  study, 
of  course,  have  great  advantages  here,  but  the  great 
mass  of  the  people  who  have  not  leisure  find  means  of 
improvement  in  the  sights  which  greet  them  in  their 
daily  walks  along  the  street. 

All  sorts  of  people  come  to  New  York.  You  may 
watch  the  throng  on  a  fair  afternoon,  in  any  of  the 
principal  streets  of  the  city,  and  you  will  see  pass  before 
you  representatives  of  every  land  and  clime,  of  all  pro- 
fessions, trades  and  callings. 

The  great  cost  of  living  in  New  York  makes  it  im- 
possible for  the  city  to  number  a  strong  middle  class 


LACK  OF  A  MIDDLE  CLASS. 


63 


among  its  people.  The  very  rich  can  afford  the  ex- 
pense,  since  it  brings  them  pleasures  and  compensations 
they  can  obtain  nowhere  else  in  America  for  their  out- 
lay. The  very  poor  and  the  laboring  class  huddle  in 
the  tenement  houses,  and  put  up  with  discomfort  at  a 
cost  which  would  enable  them  to  do  far  better  in  the 
other  cities  of  the  country.  What  a  workingman  pays 
for  his  two  or  three  rooms  in  a  New  York  tenement 
house  would  give  him  a  separate  house  and  a  comfort- 
able home  in  almost  any  other  American  city. 

Persons  of  moderate  means  doing  business  in  New 
York  who  desire  the  comforts  of  a  home  for  their  fami- 
lies are,  as  a  rule,  obliged  to  reside  out  of  the  city. 
They  come  into  New  York  in  the  morning,  and  leave 
it  in  the  evening.  It  is  a  severe  tax  upon  their  strength, 
but  it  enables  them  to  enjoy  the  business  advantages 
of  the  metropolis,  and  at  the  same  time  to  provide  for 
their  families  homes  of  comfort  and  taste  at  a  cost 
within  their  means,  which  they  could  not  do  as  residents 
of  the  city. 

This  leaves  New  York  but  a  comparatively  small 
representation  of  the  class  which  is  the  mainstay  of 
modern  communities.  The  pauper  population  is  large, 
the  number  of  those  who  live  by  manual  labor  is  larger, 
and  against  these  are  set  the  rich  men  of  the  city.  The 
class  which  should  be  strongest,  and  which  should 
stand  as  the  harmonizers  of  the  extremes  we  have 
mentioned,  is  conspicuous  by  its  absence. 

Persons  who  do  business  in  the  city  and  reside  in  the 
suburbs  are  subjected  to  many  inconveniences,  especi- 
ally during  the  winter  season.  A  heavy  snow  or  a 
dangerous  storm  may  keep  them  from  their  business 


64 


NEW  YORK. 


when  their  presence  is  imperatively  demanded,  or  may 
prevent  them  from  reaching  home  at  night. 

As  a  place  of  residence,  to  those  who  have  the  moneys 
to  justify  it,  New  York  is  by  far  the  most  delightful 
home  in  the  country.  Its  cosmopolitan  and  metropoli- 
tan character,  its  glorious  climate,  and  its  thousand  and 
one  attractions,  added  to  the  solid  comfort  one  may  en- 
joy here,  make  it  the  most  attractive  of  our  great  cities. 
It  possesses  a  peculiar  charm,  which  all  who  have  dwelt 
within  its  borders  feel  and  own.  As  a  rule,  the  people 
would  rather  be  uncomfortable  here  than  comfortable 
elsewhere.  They  leave  it  with  regret,  and  return  to  it 
with  delight  whenever  able  to  do  so. 


CHANGES  IN  POPULATION, 


65 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  GROWTH  OF  NEW  YORK. 

RAPID  GROWTH  OF  NEW  YORK  DURING  THE  PAST  THIRTY-FIVE  YEARS — THE  PLUSH  TIMES  AFTER 

THE  WAR— EFFECTS  OF  THE  PANIC  OF  I873 — A  MOMENTARY  CHECK — RETURN  OF  PROS- 
PERITY— PROSPECTS  FOR  THE  FUTURE — INCREASE  IN  BUILDING  OPERATIONS — HOW  REAL 
ESTATE  APPRECIATES  IN  VALUE— THE  SECRET  OF  THE  GREAT  INCREASE  OF  WEALTH  IN  NEW 
YORK — FUTURE  CENTRES  OF  POPULATION— WHAT  NEW  YORK  WILL  BE  FIFTY  YEARS  HBNCB— 
A  GRAND  DESTINY. 


We  have  already  given  the  population  of  the  me- 
tropolis according  to  the  last  three  censuses,  but  before 
passing  on,  it  will  be  interesting  to  glance  at  the  growth 
of  the  city  for  the  last  thirty-five  years.  The  United 
States  Census  is  taken  every  ten  years,  and  shows  ^ 
marked  change  in  every  decade ;  but  the  State  Census, 
which  is  taken  every  five  years,  enables  us  to  obtain 
a  view  of  the  movement  of  the  city's  population  at 
shorter  intervals.  From  it  we  learn  that,  notwith- 
standing the  phenomenal  growth  of  New  York,  there 
was  a  period,  covering  the  duration  of  our  civil  war, 
when  the  metropolis,  instead  of  increasing,  actually  de- 
clined in  population.  The  returns  since  the  year  1845. 
record  the  population  as  follows : 

In  1845, 


In  1850, 
In  1855, 
In  i860, 
1865, 
1870, 

1880, 


In 
In 
In 
Iti 


37i»223 

515.547 
629,810 
813,669 
726,386 
942,292 
1,064,272 
1,209,561 


66 


NEW  YORK. 


The  close  of  the  civil  war  marked  the  opening  of  a 
new  era  of  prosperity,  which  New  York  shared  with 
the  rest  of  the  country.  The  panic  of  1873  began  an- 
other period  of  depression,  which  had  its  effect  in 
keeping  down  the  city's  growth.  The  hard  times 
drove  numbers  of  laboring  people  and  those  in  humble 
circumstances  to  the  West  and  other  portions  of  the 
country,  to  seek  the  rewards  which  the  stagnation 
of  business  in  the  great  commercial  centre  denied 
them.  During  the  past  two  years  the  onward  march 
of  prosperity  has  been  resumed,  and  the  census  of 
1880  shows  a  growth  of  267,269  inhabitants  over  the 
population  of  1870,  and  of  145,289  over  that  of  1875. 
It  is  confidently  expected  that  the  next  five  years  will 
show  a  still  greater  improvement,  and  should  the  next 
decade  be  favorable  to  the  general  prosperity  of  the 
country,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  in  1890  New 
York  will  contain  nearly,  if  not  quite,  two  millions  of 
inhabitants.  With  wise  foresight,  the  city  is  preparing 
to  accommodate  this  vast  number  of  human  beings 
which  will  soon  crowd  its  limits.  What  changes  will 
take  place  in  the  next  ten  years  no  one  can  with  cer- 
tainty predict,  but  it  is  safe  to  assert  that  1890  will  see 
a  city  far  more  splendid,  far  more  enterprising,  and  in 
every  way  more  worthy  of  the  proud  title  of  "  Me- 
tropolis," than  that  to  which  we  now  invite  the  reader's 
attention. 

Not  long  since,  a  gentleman  who  had  carefully  stud- 
ied the  progress  of  New  York,  and  who,  as  a  statistician 
of  great  and  acknowledged  experience,  is  entitled  to 
speak  with  authority,  said :  "  Basing  my  calculations  on 
tables  corrected  by  external  and  internal  influences 


CHANGES  OF  THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  CITY.  67 

which  are  clearly  apparent  to  any  one  giving  attention 
to  the  subject,  I  anticipate  an  increase  in  our  population 
in  New  York,  during  the  next  five  years,  of  fully  three 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  First  of  all,  the  bad  state  of 
trade  in  Great  Britain,  and  the  wretched  poverty  existing 
among  the  tillers  of  the  soil,  must  greatly  swell  the  tide 
of  immigration.  Moreover,  we  are  of  late  getting  a 
better  class  of  immigrants.  That  is  because  skilled 
artisans,  attracted  by  the  glowing  accounts  of  the  bet- 
ter wages  and  more  liberal  treatment  prevailing  here, 
sent  to  them  by  fellow  workmen  who  have  already  made 
their  home  in  the  United  States,  are  now  coming  out 
here  in  force,  and  will  emigrate  in  even  larger  numbers 
as  the  good  news  is  disseminated  among  them.  These 
men,  unlike  the  unskilled  laborers,  who  must  needs 
travel  on  to  less  populated  States,  where  alone  their 
labor  is  in  demand,  will  readily  find  a  market  for  their 
skilled  labor  in  New  York,  and  here,  consequently,  they 
will  make  their  home.  Rapid  transit,  too,  now  so  fully 
developed,  will  not  only  keep  the  present  population 
resident  in  their  own  city,  but  will,  I  think,  draw  thous- 
ands of  men  resident  in  Brooklyn,  Jersey,  Long  Island 
and  Connecticut  towns  and  elsewhere,  whose  places  of 
business  are  in  New  York,  back  within  the  city  limits,  " 
The  increase  of  the  population  necessarily  brings  an 
increase  in  the  means  of  accommodating  it,  and  of  pro- 
viding for  its  various  requirements.  Consequently, 
New  York  is  rapidly  growing  in  the  number  of  its- 
business  edifices,  its  dwellings,  churches,  theatres,  and 
public  buildings.  In  spite  of  the  hard  times  and  gene- 
ral depression  which  have  marked  the  past  ten  years 
building  operations  have  been  carried  on  upon  a  gigan. 


68 


NEW  YORK. 


tic  scale.  According  to  the  returns  furnished  by  tht 
city  authorities,  the  number  of  buildings  erected  from 
1872  to  1879,  was  as  follows: 

In  1872   1,728 

In  1873   1,311 

In  1874  .       .       .       .       .       .  1,388 

In  1875  .       •       .       .       .       •  1,406 

In  1876   1,379 

In  1877   1,432 

In  1878   1,672 

In  1879   2,065 

In  all,  a  total  of  12,381  buildings  erected  in  eight 
years. 

*'The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  eye  on  perusing  these 
figures,"  says  the  gentleman  we  have  quoted,  "is  the 
large  increase  in  the  number  of  buildings  that  went  up 
in  1879,  as  compared  with  previous  years,  during  which 
the  increase  of  population  and  number  of  buildings 
erected  were  about  proportionate.  Hence  the  activity 
in  building  is  clearly  traceable  to  the  general  improve- 
ment of  trade  and  freer  circulation  of  money  that  has 
)recently  taken  place."  On  this  subject,  the  gentleman 
whose  remarks  are  quoted  above  spoke  as  follows : — 
"The  erection  of  buildings  in  New  York  during  the  past 
eight  years  has  been  carried  on  upon  an  enormous 
scale.  Mere  figures  give  to  the  reader  but  a  poor  idea 
of  the  vast  nature  of  these  operations.  From  a  careful 
calculation  I  have  made,  I  find  that  were  it  possible  to 
mass  in  one  whole  all  the  buildings  erected  in  New 
York  since  1872,  they  would  cover  an  area  equal  in  ex- 
tent to  the  ground  lying  between  iioth  and  140th 


INCREASE  IN  BUILDING  OPERATIONS. 


69 


streets,  from  Fifth  to  Ninth  avenue  inclusive,  and 
from  6oth  street  to  iioth,  between  Eighth  and  Ninth 
avenues.  It  is,  in  short,  perfectly  safe  to  say  that 
1 1, GOG  full  lots  have  been  built  upon  during  the  period 
indicated — considering  that  the  Seventh  regiment 
armory  alone  covers  thirty-two  lots,  and  many  other 
enormous  buildings  have  also  gone  up.  This  increase 
of  building  is,  I  think,  likely  to  go  on  indefinitely,  and 
real  estate,  in  sympathy,  will,  I  believe,  rise  greatly  in 
value.  It  may  be  advanced  against  the  views  I  take 
upon  this  head  that  no  matter  how  great  an  activity 
may  prevail  in  building  operations,  there  is  so  much 
vacant  land  on  hand  that  real  estate  will  not  greatly 
advance  in  price.  A  very  cogent  argument  in  my  favor 
will  be  found  in  a  growing  disposition  on  the  part  of 
large  capitalists  to  buy  up  large  pieces  of  land  as  an 
investment,  after  the  manner  adopted  by  Robert  Len- 
nox, whose  farm  at  the  five-mile  stone  has  proved  such 
a  veritable  El  Dorado  to  the  two  generations  succeed- 
ing him. 

"The  following  extracts  from  the  will  of  Robert  Len- 
nox have,  at  this  time,  such  a  peculiar  significance,  in  the 
face  of  the  renewed  demand  for  real  estate  for  building 
operations,  as  to  be  worth  reproducing.  Section  9  of 
the  will,  bearing  date  of  May  23d,  1829,  June  23d,  1832, 
and  October  4th,  1839,  read  as  follows: — 

"  '  I  give,  devise  and  bequeath  to  my  son,  my  only  son, 
James  Lennox,  my  farm  at  the  five-mile  stone,  purchased 
in  part  from  the  Corporation  of  the  city  of  New  York  and 
containing  about  thirty  acres,  with  all  improvements, 
stock  of  horses,  catde  and  farming  utensils,  for  and  duringf 
the  term  of  his  life,  and  after  his  death  to  his  heirs  forever. 


70  NEW  YORK. 

My  motive  for  so  leaving  this  property,  is  a  firm  pen 
suasion  that  it  may,  at  no  distant  date,  be  the  site  of  a 
village,  and  as  it  cost  me  much  more  than  its  present 
worth,  from  circumstances  known  to  my  family,  I  like 
to  cherish  the  belief  it  may  be  realized  to  them.  At  all 
events,  I  want  the  experiment  made,  by  keeping  the 
property  from  being  sold.' 

"  Under  the  second  date  on  the  will — namely,  June 
23d,  1832 — the  foregoing  bequest  is  thus  modified: — 

" '  Whereas,  in  my  said  will  I  have  left  my  farm,  situ- 
ate in  the  Twelfth  (formerly  Ninth)  ward  of  the  city  of 
New  York,  near  the  five-mile  stone,  to  my  son,  James 
Lennox,  for  and  during  the  term  of  his  natural  life,  and 
after  his  death  to  his  heirs,  forever ;  now  I  do  hereby 
give  and  devise  the  said  farm  to  my  said  son,  James 
Lennox,  and  to  his  heirs,  forever.  At  the  same  time, 
I  wish  him  to  understand  that  my  opinion  respecting 
the  property  is  not  changed,  and  though  I  withdraw 
all  legal  restrictions  to  his  making  sale  of  the  whole  or 
part  of  the  same,  yet  I  enforce  on  him  my  advice  not  to 
do  so.' 

"  A  wise  man  in  his  generation  was  Robert  Lennox. 
The  farm  at  the  five-mile  stone  originally  cost  the  tes- 
tator somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  ^^40,000. 
Early  in  1864,  Mr.  James  Lennox,  the  fortunate  legatee 
under  the  will  quoted  from,  of  the  now  historic  farm, 
conveyed  to  his  nephew,  Robert  Lennox  Kennedy, 
the  whole  block  between  7 2d  and  73d  streets,  Madi- 
ison  and  Fifth  avenues — a  block  204  feet  4  inches 
in  width  on  Fifth  and  Madison  avenues  and  420  feet 
in  length  on  each  street  named.  The  consideration 
paid   for   this   slice  out  of  the  golden  farm  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  LENNOX  FARM. 


71 


$250,000.  To  Clarence  S.  Brown,  on  December  nth, 
1866,  Mr.  Kennedy,  for  $240,000,  disposed  of  twenty 
lots  on  this  block,  comprising  the  whole  front  on  7 2d 
street,  between  Fifth  and  Madison  avenues,  and  the 
plot  120  feet  2  inches  by  100  feet,  on  the  southwest 
corner  of  73d  street  and  Madison  avenue.  But  four 
years  had  elapsed  when  Clarence  Brown  disposed  of 
these  identical  lots  to  John  Crosby  Brown  for  $430,000. 

"  Not  to  enter  into  further  detail,"  said  the  gentleman 
who  had  furnished  these  particulars,  "  I  may  first  add, 
that  in  1875  the  farm  at  the  five-mile  stone  was  valued  at 
$9,000,000,  without  a  building  upon  it.  To-day  I  judge 
that  the  lot  on  the  corner  of  7 2d  street  and  Fifth  avenue, 
27  feet  by  100,  would  fetch  in  the  open  market  in  the 
neighborhood  of  $100,000,  being  more  than  twice  as 
much  as  the  shrewd  old  Scotchman  paid  for  the  whole 
thirty  acres.  At  the  present  time  the  whole  estate  is 
probably  worth  $1 2,000,000.  Many  brokers  have  con- 
curred in  the  correctness  of  these  views.  Hall  J.  How 
said  to  me,  only  yesterday,  'Why,  Amos  Clark,  of 
Boston,  owns  the  lot  on  7 2d  street  and  Fifth  avenue, 
and  he  would  not  sell  it  for  $100,000.' 

"The  late  John  D.  Phillips  was  hardly  so  wise  as  the 
owner  of  'the  farm  at  the  five-mile  stone.'  On  the  2d 
of  June,  1 85 1,  he  purchased  of  Peter  McLaughlin  the 
lot  on  the  southeast  corner  of  84th  street  and  Fifth 
avenue  for  $540.  Tempted  by  the  rapid  rise  in  the 
value  of  the  property,  Mr.  Phillips  sold  this  lot  to 
Stephen  Roberts  on  the  i8th  day  of  August,  1853,  for 
$1900.  On  Thursday  last  this  identical  property  was 
purchased  by  George  Kemp  for  $40,000.  I  wonder 
if  it  ever  occurs  to  capitalists  that,  in  the  long  run,  more 


72 


NEW  YORK. 


money  can  be  made  out  of  things  of  substance  than 
things  of  paper — certificates  representing  the  Manhat- 
tan shares,  for  example  ?  If  it  does  not,  let  them  in- 
quire of  those  foolish  Senators  who  rushed  in  where 
angels  never  tread — to  wit,  the  Board  of  Brokers.  In 
real  estate  operations,  loaded  dice  cannot  well  be  em- 
ployed, and  midnight  decrees  doubling  its  value  are 
things  unheard  of;  and  it  might  be  well  for  our  million- 
aires to  remember  that  the  Legislature,  forced  on  by 
public  sentiment,  manifests  a  disposition  to  lessen  the 
burdens  that  have  hitherto  fallen  upon  real  estate,  by 
forcing  the  corporations  to  bear  their  fair  share  of  the 
expense  of  government.  I  would  observe,  en  passant^ 
that  the  corporations  of  Pennsylvania  pay  almost  the 
whole  amount  of  the  State  taxes.  Says  the  Attorney- 
General  of  that  State:  'The  greater  portion  of  the 
revenues  of  Pennsylvania  are  derived  from  the  taxes 
levied  on  corporations.' 

"  All  my  observations  lead  me  to  the  conclusion  that 
building  operations  will  be  carried  on  still  more  exten- 
sively during  the  next  few  years. 

"I  am  strongly  impressed  with  the  belief  that  the 
west  side  of  the  city  will  be  the  locality  wherein  the 
greatest  activity  in  building  will  manifest  itself.  The 
fashionable  locality  bounded  by  6oth  and  90th  streets, 
and  Madison  and  Fourth  and  Fifth  avenues,  is  now 
pretty  well  built  up,  and  within  a  couple  of  years 
or  so  will,  I  imagine,  be  completely  covered.  Again, 
the  recent  enormous  rise  in  prices  of  lots  in  the  fash- 
ionable eastern  districts  will  cause  builders  to  at 
least  ponder  over  Horace  Greeley's  advice  as  to 
going  West.    That  portion  of  the  city  will,  I  thinks 


THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WEST  SIDE. 


73 


prove  the  home  of  the  well-to-do  class  of  the  fu- 
ture. I  understand  that  the  series  of  large  buildings 
recently  erected  by  Mr.  Edward  Clark,  of  sewing 
machine  fame,  on  the  north  side  of  73d  street,  be- 
tween Ninth  and  Tenth  avenues,  are  already  all  rented 
on  good  terms.  Mr.  Clark  is  a  large  owner  of  lots  in 
this  particular  locality.  These  and  other  projected 
and  already  begun  building  operations  on  the  west 
side  will  encourage  other  extensive  property  holders 
and  capitalists  to  invest  largely  in  similar  enterprises. 
The  natural  advantages  of  the  western  side,  comprising 
the  peerless  riverside  drive,  with  its  panoramic  views  of 
the  Hudson,  the  Palisades,  Jersey,  and  its  glimpses  of 
the  sea,  and  its  health-giving  breezes  from  the  moun- 
tains, the  Boulevards,  Manhattan  Square  and  the  Morn- 
ingside  Park,  combine  to  render  this  western  portion 
of  our  city  a  highly  desirable  place  of  residence.  By 
reason  of  bill  No.  206,  that  has  recently  passed  the 
Senate,  Morningside  Park — hitherto  a  park  only  on 
paper — will  speedily  be  transformed  into  '  a  thing  of 
beauty  and  a  joy  forever.'  It  is  to  be  at  once  graded, 
and  the  approaches  appropriately  arranged;  and  better 
still,  the  bill  provides  that  $150,000  shall  at  once  be 
spent  by  the  Department  in  its  cultivation  and  adorn- 
ment. By  the  ist  of  May,  too,  the  squatters — whose 
rudely  constructed  huts  in  various  stages  of  dilapida- 
tion and  decay  are  at  present  notable  disfigurements  of 
the  district — will  disappear,  as  the  property  owners  have 
recently  combined  with  the  view  of  effecting  this  desir- 
able reformation.  The  superior  equipments,  too,  of  the 
western  elevated  road,  the  better  class  of  passengers 
using  the  cars,  and  the  convenient  situation  and  frequent 


74 


NEW  YORK. 


recurrence  of  the  stations,  are  all  important  factors  in 
enhancing  the  growing  popularity  of  the  western  dis* 
trict  as  a  residential  suburb. 

"  Riding  over  the  western  elevated  road,  as  the  eye 
rests  upon  the  little  groups  of  houses  and  cottages, 
clinging,  tendril-like,  around  the  stations  of  the  elevated 
road,  anywhere  above,  say,  125th  street,  one  is  forcibly  ' 
reminded  of  the  words  of  Victor  Hugo.  Writing  of  the 
populating  effects  of  railroads  on  the  suburbs  of  Paris, 
in  'Les  Miserables,*  he  says:  *  Whenever  a  station  is 
built  on  the  skirts  of  a  city,  it  is  the  death  of  a 
suburb  and  the  birth  of  a  town.'  Those  who  had 
the  courage  to  invest  their  money  in  real  estate  in 
the  worst  of  time  (about  eighteen  months  ago),  have 
been  enabled  in  many  instances  to  dispose  of  their, 
purchases  at  prices  almost  approaching,  and  in  some 
instances  actually  exceeding,  the  prices  prevailing  in 
1872-73,  and  have  reason  to  exclaim  with  Mac- 
beth : — 

«*  *  Things  at  the  worst  will  cease,  or  else  climb  upward 
To  where  they  were  before.'  " 

About  a  year  ago,  the  New  York  Herald,  in  a  care- 
fully-prepared paper,  thus  predicted  the  future  of  New 
York:— 

"  The  growth  and  development  of  this  city  are  with- 
out a  parallel  and  without  a  precedent.  Its  future  has 
been  often  prophesied,  but  not  always  understood. 
When  we  undertake  to  trace  the  causes  that  have  led 
to  its  commercial  supremacy,  and  those  that  are  now 
operating  to  increase  its  prosperity,  we  are  met  by 
singular  and  fortuitous  circumstances,  which  it  was  im- 
possible to  foresee,  and  not  easy  to  comprehend.  One 


THE  CITY  IN  OLDEN  TIME. 


75 


thing  is,  however,  certain,  that  the  anticipations  of  the 
most  sanguine  have  always  been  more  than  realized, 
while  the  prognostications  of  the  doubtful  have  only 
been  remembered  for  their  fallacy. 

"The  progressive  growth  of  the  city  has  been  often 
capricious,  so  far  as  locality  is  concerned,  but  the  im- 
portant factor  of  topography  has  always  asserted  itself, 
in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  ignore  it  in  the  interests  of  in- 
dividual projects.  Going  back  to  the  early  settlement 
and  Dutch  supremacy,  we  find  both  commerce  and 
social  life  progressing  along  the  east  side  of  the  city, 
on  the  line  of  what  is  now  Pearl  street,  where  the 
Dutch  burgher  sat  on  his  '  stoop,'  with  his  long  pipe, 
and  held  social  commune  with  his  neighbor  over  the 
way.  The  early  occupation  of  that  section  was  due  to 
the  fact  that  from  the  east  side  of  the  city,  on  account 
of  the  prevailing  winds,  sailing  vessels  may  always  be 
got  under  way  more  readily  than  from  the  west  side, 
where  it  is  often  impossible  for  a  vessel  to  leave  her 
berth  without  the  aid  of  a  tug.  When  the  English  oc- 
cupation took  place,  the  Dutch  had  already  monopo- 
lized the  east  side  of  the  city,  as  far  up  as  the  '  Bouw- 
erie,'  or  Bowery,  including  the  Stuyvesant  meadows — 
Peter  Stuyvesant  himself  owning  a  large  tract,  where 
is  now  the  Stuyvesant  Park.  The  natural  social  and 
business  antagonism  between  the  Dutch  and  English 
necessitated  the  selection  of  a  new  locality  on  the  part 
of  the  latter,  and  Broadway  became  the  choice,  where 
were  erected  the  English  churches — Trinity  and  St. 
Paul — and  here  the  Eno-Hsh  merchants  built  their  resi- 
dences  and  their  stores.  The  Dutch  churches  were' in 
Fulton  and  Nassau  streets,  and  as  the  religious  ele- 


76 


NEW  YORK. 


mentj  especially  in  small  communities,  is  always  an 
important  factor  in  social  life,  we  find  two  distinct  cen- 
tres of  civic  progress  developing  themselves,  and  main- 
tained with  great  energy  and  determination  for  many 
years.  The  topographical  advantages  were,  however, 
in  favor  of  the  English,  and  the  building  up  of  New 
York  along  the  line  of  Broadway,  the  'backbone'  of 
the  island,  was  the  result.  But  time  and  prosperity 
causing  a  rapid  increase  of  population,  the  city  as- 
sumed a  cosmopolitan  character,  local  religious  or 
social  influences  ceased  to  have  the  same  force  that 
they  formerly  exerted,  and  new  influences  arose  to  de- 
termine the  direction  and  character  of  the  city's  growth. 
Yet  no  one  anticipated  then,  or  for  years  afterward, 
what  the  city  might  become.  There  are  many  persons 
still  living  who  can  remember  Canal  street  as  out  of 
town,  where  they  went  for  a  day's  shooting  in  its 
swampy  surroundings,  or  to  fish  from  the'  bridge  that 
spanned  the  sluggish  stream  on  Broadway  ;  and  there 
are  at  present  residents  of  Fourteenth  street  who  were 
once  regarded  with  amazement  by  their  friends,  for  es- 
tablishing their  homes  in  such  a  remote  locality.  Yet 
the  city  has  continued  to  grow,  the  centre  of  active 
trade  shifting  from  place  to  place  as  the  city  extended 
itself.  This  has  been  especially  the  case  with  the  dry 
goods  trade,  which  at  one  time  centred  itself  in  Pearl 
street,  in  the  old  homes  of  the  Dutch,  shifting  thence 
to  lower  Broadway,  afterward  occupying  the  streets 
running  from  that  thoroughfare  on  the  west  side,  most 
of  which  were  widened  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  to  make 
accommodations  for  this  rapidly-increasing  trade,  and 
were  lined  with  fine  marble  buildings,  soon,  however. 


CHANGES  IN  THE  CITY. 


77 


to  be  abandoned  for  Church  street,  middle  Broadway, 
and  the  streets  connecting  them,  where  it  now  rests  for 
a  season.  Other  Hnes  of  trade  have  apparently  fol- 
lowed in  the  wake,  and  occupied  the  localities  deserted 
by  the  jobbing  trade,  leaving  no  vacancies,  but  filling 
up,  as  it  were,  the  interstices  as  fast  as  they  were 
made ;  but  from  the  ver)^  force  of  numbers  and  the 
great  bulk  of  this  business,  the  dry-goods  traders  have 
always  led  the  way.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  area  appropriated  for  the  purposes  of 
residences,  the  governing  elements  have  been  of  an  en- 
tirely different  character.  Any  one  who  will  take  the 
pains  to  examine,  from  one  decade  to  another,  the  pro- 
gressive northward  extension  of  the  building  limits, 
will  observe  a  remarkable  fluctuation,  similar  to  the 
irregular  and  spasmodic  lines  that  indicate  on  a  dia- 
gram the  rise  and  fall  of  gold  during  the  inflation 
period  At  one  time,  this  line  runs  forward  along  the 
course  of  Second  avenue,  leaving  all  others  behind. 
Again,  the  extension  is  transferred  to  Seventh  avenue, 
which  in  1844  was  far  ahead  of  all  others.  At  another 
period  it  advanced  with  great  rapidity  on  the  line  of 
Third  avenue,  which  has  distanced  all  competitors  and 
prolonged  itself  to  Harlem.  With  the  better  class  of 
residences.  Fifth  avenue  rushed  onward,  leaving  Madi- 
son avenue  behind,  in  quite  an  insignificant  position; 
but  again  Madison  avenue  takes  up  the  race,  and  has 
now  outstripped  Fifth  avenue. 

*'  These  apparently  capricious  fluctuations  are  due  to 
such  obvious  causes  that,  instead  of  being  singular,  they 
are  directly  the  reverse,  since,  with  the  circumstances 
that  brought  about  these  results,  it  would  have  been  re- 


78 


NEW  YORK. 


markable  had  they  been  otherwise.  Take,  for  instance^ 
Second  avenue.  An  extensive  tract  in  this  locaHty  be- 
longed to  the  heirs  of  the  Stuyvesant  estate,  many  of 
whom  had  sufficient  means  to  erect  expensive  struc- 
tures for  their  own  residences,  and  encouraged  others 
to  do  the  same  in  their  vicinity.  The  consequence  was, 
that  for  a  time  many  first-class  improvements  were 
made  in  the  neighborhood  of  Stuyvesant  Square,  and 
along  that  region  of  the  avenue  alluded  to.  But  the 
disposition  to  erect  fine  buildings  in  that  section  soon 
passed  away,  and  it  has  never  gone  beyond  an  oasis  of 
respectability  in  a  desert  of  mediocrity.  Again,  St. 
Mark's  place  was  selected  by  an  enterprising  citizen  as 
an  exclusive  faubourg,  but  it  proved  a  mere  halting 
place  of  fashion.  Bondstreet  was  another  effort,  where 
enough  gentlemen  of  taste  and  means  established  them- 
selves to  render  the  entire  street  an  exclusive  precinct 
for  a  decade  or  more,  but  its  glory  has  long  since  faded. 

"Some  thirty  years  ago  the  movement  in  Fifth  avenue 
was  initiated,  and  it  has  held  its  own,  with  a  growth 
above  and  decay  below,  from  that  time  to  the  present 
day.  This  fine  avenue  has  now  become  thoroughly 
invaded,  from  Washington  square  almost  to  the  Central 
Park,  with  fancy  shops,  jewelers,  hotels  and  boarding 
houses,  and  its  exclusiveness  has  vanished  forever. 
•  Murray  Hill,'  the  line  of  which  it  crosses,  was  for  a 
considerable  time  regarded  as  the  synonym  of  fash- 
ion, but  in  time  it  will  be  more  strictly  synonymous 
with  shabby  gentility.  Fifth  avenue  northward  is 
limited  to  the  east  side  of  the  P^rk,  and  has  a  'jump- 
ing off'  place  at  io2d  street,  into  the  Harlem  fiats, 
which  checks  its  career  of  availability.   Madison  avenue 


THE  MOVEMENTS  OF  FASHION. 


79 


has  to  some  extent  usurped  the  place  of  Fifth  avenue, 
due  in  a  larore  measure  to  the  convenience  afforded 
originally  by  the  extension  of  the  Fourth  avenue  surface 
road  into  that  avenue.  The  Third  avenue  road,  which 
in  its  incipient  stages  had  been  a  losing  concern  (the 
stock  of  which  at  one  time  sold  for  three  cents  on  the 
dollar),  began  at  last,  through  the  mere  element  of 
convenience,  to  cause  the  building  up  of  the  desert  of 
vacant  lots  through  which  it  was  originally  projected, 
and  at  the  time  of  the  construction  of  the  elevated 
line  along  its  route,  was  paying  its  stockholders  every 
year  a  hundred  cents  on  the  dollar  of  its  original  cost, 
and  twenty  cents  per  annum  on  its  enormously  watered 
capital.  Of  course  this  involved  the  transportation  of 
very  great  masses  of  people,  amounting  to  many  mil- 
lions annually,  accompanied  by  much  crowding  and 
discomfort.  This  immense  volume  of  travel  is  now  be- 
ing absorbed  by  the  East  Side  Elevated  Railroad. 

Lennox  Hill,  on  the  line  of  Fifth  and  Madison  ave- 
nues, from  the  very  nature  of  its  elevated  position, 
affords  very  attractive  building  sites,  which  the  large 
and  opulent  class  of  our  HebrHw  fellow  citizens  have 
not  been  slow  to  appreciate.  In  this  vicinity  they  have, 
with  a  generous  and  noble  liberality,  erected  the  superb 
Mount  Sinai  Hospital,  for  the  care  and  comfort  of  the 
sick  of  their  own  people,  and  many  of  the  handsomest 
private  residences  in  this  fine  locality  have  been  erected 
by  them. 

*'  In  fact,  as  this  favored  territory  is  really  limited  by 
the  sudden  descent  into  Harlem  Flats  at  looth  street, 
it  is  very  doubtful  whether  it  will  be  sufficient  even  to 
accommodate  all  of  that  faith  who  are  likely  to  erect 


80 


NEW  YORK. 


here  their  '  lares  and  penates/  The  inquiry  naturally 
presents  itself,  where,  then,  shall  the  growth  of  the  city 
thus  limited  and  circumscribed  in  the  channels  it  has 
pursued  for  three  decades,  be  now  directed  ? 

"  The  answer  to  this  question  is  to  be  found  in  the 
irresistible  logic  of  facts  that  we  propose  now  to  pre- 
sent. In  the  glance  we  have  taken  at  the  great  capitals 
of  Europe,  over  some  of  which  not  only  centuries,  but 
tens  of  centuries  have  rolled  since  their  foundation,  and 
on  which  successive  monarchs  have  sought,  in  lavish 
expenditure,  to  stamp  the  glory  of  their  brief  reigns,  by 
splendid  architectural  adornments,  by  parks  and  prom- 
enades, avenues  and  squares,  by  grand  monuments  of 
brass  and  marble,  triumphal  arches  and  gorgeous  pa- 
laces— unlike  what  the  New  World  has  yet  dreamed 
of  and  may  never  possess — in  this  glance  we  see  what 
an  important  element  the  broad  shaded  avenues  and 
fine  parks  have  been  in  their  development.  We  have 
recognized  that,  regardless  of  all  other  considerations, 
these  avenues  and  drives  have  been  the  fixed  centres 
of  attraction,  the  final  resting  place  of  fashion  and  ele- 
gance, along  which  and  around  which  cluster  the  homes 
of  the  aesthetic  and  the  opulent,  where  the  citizen  who 
entertains  a  just  civic  pride  has  sought  to  embellish 
with  his  own  wealth  and  taste  the  choice  spots  where 
natural  topography,  aided  by  well-ordered  public  im- 
provements, invite  him  to  a  salubrious  and  permanent 
home. 

**  The  conclusion  is  inevitable,  therefore,  that  the  sec- 
tion of  the  city  that  has  been  held  io  reserve  until  the 
time  when  the  progress  of  wealth  and  refinement  shall 
have  attained  that  period  of  its  development  when  our 


THE  WEST  END. 


81 


citizens  can  appreciate  and  are  ready  to  take  advantage 
of  tJie  situation,  is  the  section  that  is  to  be  the  most 
favored  and  the  most  sought  after.  At  an  expense 
unparalleled  except  in  the  lavish  periods  of  imperial 
opulence,  the  great  West  End  plateau,  extending  from 
the  Central  Park  to  the  North  River  has  been  laid  out 
and  ornamented  with  a  series  of  magnificent  avenues 
not  excelled  by  any  other  city  in  the  world.  Moreover, 
this  entire  region  combines  in  its  general  aspect  all  that 
is  magnificent  in  the  leading  capitals  of  Europe.  In 
our  Central  Park  we  have  the  fine  Prater  of  Vienna ; 
in  our  grand  boulevard  the  rival  of  the  finest  avenues 
of  the  gay  capital  of  France;  in  our  Riverside  avenue 
the  equivalent  of  the  Chiaja  of  Naples  and  the  Corso 
of  Rome;  while  the  beautiful  "  Unter  den  Linden"  of 
Berlin,  and  the  finest  portions  of  the  West  End  of 
London,  are  reproduced  again  and  again.  Let  us  look 
more  closely  at  the  topography  of  this  section,  and  see 
whether  it  w^ll  bear  out  the  impressions  that  are  given 
in  regard  to  it,  by  a  study  of  its  plan. 

•'Originally,  the  highest  portions  of  the  'backbone' 
of  the  island  were  rough  and  unsightly,  rocky  emi- 
nences alternated  with  intervening  valleys.  By  a  pro- 
cess of  uniform  grading  these  have  been  transformed 
into  a  generally  level  plateau,  from  seventy-five  to  a 
hundred  feet  above  the  river.  On  the  east,  the  Central 
Park,  with  all  its  luxuriant  beauty,  stretches  out  its  long 
line  of  trees  and  shrubs.  On  the  west,  the  stately 
Hudson  bathes  the  foot  of  the  green  slope  in  which  it 
terminates,  while  from  the  splendid  avenue  on  the  crest 
above,  this  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  with  its  teemino- 
life  of  sail  and  steamer,  is  viewed  for  more  than  three 


82 


NEW  YORK. 


miles  of  drive  and  promenade.  On  the  south  the  busy 
city  stretches  out  from  below  the  Park,  and  on  the 
north  the  Boulevard  extends  its  length  away  into  the 
picturesque  and  inviting  region  of  Fort  Washington, 
with  the  Morningside  Park  on  the  east  to  break  the 
view  of  Harlem  Plains,  while  Long  Island  Sound  and 
its  beautiful  islands  are  seen  in  the  distance. 

In  the  details  of  draining,  sewering  and  water  sup- 
ply, the  highest  skill  of  the  city  engineers  has  been 
here  employed,  and  these  important  public  necessities 
have  been  provided  in  anticipation,  with  scrupulous 
regard  to  thoroughly  studied  general  plans.  The  igno- 
rance and  carelessness  of  the  past  have  been  replaced 
by  intelligence  and  conscientious  work,  and  the  errors 
elsewhere  committed  have  here  been  avoided,  these 
errors  furnishing  both  a  lesson  and  a  guide  to  perfection. 
The  drainage  of  this  region  flows  principally  towards  the 
west  side,  in  some  portions  of  which  there  has  accumu- 
lated a  great  deal  of  contaminated  soil,  which  may 
never  be  purified.  The  underground  drains  in  that 
region,  which  were  constructed  at  a  late  day,  to  remove 
the  water  from  the  soil,  after  much  of  the  grading  had 
been  done,  are  found,  in  some  instances,  to  run  sev/age 
matter  of  the  most  offensive  description.  Whether  this 
escapes  from  imperfect  sewers,  or  from  the  polluted 
condition  of  the  soil,  cannot  readily  be  ascertained ;  but 
such  is  the  case.  That  side  must  necessarily  partake 
of  the  disadvantages  arising  from  the  great  pressure 
of  travel  incident  to  the  crowded  population  that 
already  monopolizes  the  larger  portion  of  the  territory, 
to  be  increased  in  the  near  future  by  all  that  is  to  ac- 
cumulate on  Harlem  Plains.    It  is  believed  that  the 


HARLEM  RIVER. 


83 


density  of  the  future  population  of  the  east  side  wil! 
exceed  anything  now  conceived  of.    With  the  improve- 
ment of  the  Harlem  River,  st)on  to  be  accomplished,  a 
cordon  of  business  and  second-class  dwellings  will  be 
drawn  closely  around  that  side,  which  can  by  no  possi- 
bility invade  the  West  End  plateau.  The  business  capa  - 
city of  the  Harlem  River  is  yet  to  be  developed.  More 
of  a  river  than  the  Thames  at  London ;  twice  as  much  as 
the  Seine  at  Paris,  and  compared  with  which  the  Spree, 
which  runs  through  Berlin,  is  a  mere  open  sewer,  it  has 
yet  been  almost  ignored  in  discussing  the  immediate 
future  of  New  York.    We  are  soon  to  realize  the  fact 
that  this  fine  river  is  the  proper  terminus  of  the  Erie 
Canal.    When  the  contemplated  improvements  of  this 
river  are  completed,  a  commercial  channel  will  be 
opened  that  will  render  unnecessary  the  transportation 
of  the  canal  freight  the  entire  length  of  the  island  and 
around  the  Battery,  to  interfere  with  the  shipping  and 
the  ferries.    It  will,  instead  of  making  this  long  detour, 
be  discharged  into  warehouses  and  elevators  on  the 
Harlem  River  and  at  Port  Morris,  whence  the  foreign 
shipping  can  receive  it.    The  grain  and  lumber  trade 
of  the  city  will  centre  here,  and  a  large  amount  of  busi- 
ness now  crowded  into  the  lower  end  of  the  island 
will  be  transacted  at  this  point.    The  facilities  offered 
by  the  rapid  transit  railways  have  made  all  this  not 
only  possible,  but  certain. 

"  Overlooking  the  whole  of  this  vast  and  accumu- 
lating traffic  and  commerce,  but  separated  from  it  for- 
ever by  topographical  lines  as  clearly  defined  and 
obstructive  as  the  bastions  that  surround  the  fashion- 
able residences  of  the  Viennese,' the  West  End  plateau 


84  NEW  YORK. 

will  undoubtedly  always  be  held  intact  for  the  develop- 
ment  of  a  higher  order  of  domestic  architecture  than  it 
has  been  the  good  fortune  of  New  York  heretofore  to 
possess.  We  have  become  so  accustomed  to  being 
victimized  and  led  by  speculative  builders,  that  the 
average  citizen  has  come  to  believe  that  any  attempt 
of  his  own  to  form  a  conception  of  the  house  that  he 
would  desire  to  live  in,  or  any  expectation  of  finding 
such  a  house  if  he  indulged  himself  in  such  ideas, 
would  be  perfectly  absurd.  It  is  time  for  us  to  ask 
ourselves  if  such  a  state  of  things  is  absolutely  neces- 
/i^ary,  if  we  are  to  go  on  and  be  shelved  away  in  a 
r;ontinuous  and  interminable  series  of  brown-stone 
))Oxes,  the  dimensions  of  which  are  growing  less  year 
by  year,  until  they  may  finally  become  but  little  larger 
lhan  the  vaults  into  which  our  mortal  remains  are  to 
be  thrust  away  out  of  sight  forever.  A  stroll  into  the 
upper  sections  of  the  east  side,  where  house  manufac- 
turing is  going  on  by  the  mile,  is  enough  to  alarm  a 
thoughtful  person  as  to  the  possible  future. of  New 
York  in  this  respect.  The  sanitary  feature  of  this  con- 
dition of  things  is  a  most  serious  one,  as  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  secure  in  such  constructions  those  appli- 
ances for  ventilation  and  house  drainaore  that  are  ab- 
solutely  necessary  to  health.  The  curse  of  the  tene- 
ment-house has  been  almost  irrevocably  stamped  upon 
the  poorer  class,  and  the  curse  of  the  speculative 
builder  is  rapidly  stamping  itself  upon  the  more  pros- 
perous. The  truth  is  that,  as  a  people,  we  have  almost 
lost  the  idea  of  what  a  real  house  is.  The  few  at- 
tempts at  architectural  display  have  been  principally 
made  on  *  corner  lots.'    This  unfortunate  fancy  for 


ERRORS  IN  ARCHITECTURE. 


8S 


corners  began  with  the  extension  of  building  on  the 
Fifth  avenue.  We  say  unfortunate,  because  out  of  it 
has  come  that  style  of  corner-lot  architecture  that  has 
dominated  for  so  many  years,  at  the  expense  of  sym- 
metry and  completeness,  and  has  almost  given  a  per- 
manent stamp  to  domestic  architecture  in  the  city. 
These  corner  lots  have  been  eagerly  sought  after  by 
those  who  could  afford  to  buy  them,  and  few  persons, 
no  matter  what  their  wealth  or  aesthetic  culture,  have 
thought  of  constructing  anything  more  than  what  ap- 
pears to  be  three-quarters  of  a  house.  With  marked 
exceptions,  no  one  has  seemed  to  consider  it  worth 
while  to  erect  a  really  complete  house,  although  pos- 
sessed of  ample  land  for  the  purpose.  The  otherwise 
tasteful  residence  of  Mr.  R.  L.  Stewart,  at  the  corner 
of  20th  street  and  Fifth  avenue,  is  an  example  of  this  , 
defect  to  a  marked  degree.  So  also  are  the  handsome 
mansions  of  the  Astors,  at  33d  and  34th  streets,  on  the 
same  avenue,  where  the  connecting  fence  between  the 
houses  on  each  corner  seems  labeled,  'This  space  to 
be  filled  in  solid.'  This  jug-handle  style  of  architec- 
ture has  become  so  universal  that  we  have  grown 
accustomed  to  it,  and  the  incongruity  does  not  strike 
us  as  it  does  all  intelligent  visitors  from  other  cities. 

*'  The  plans  of  improvement  at  the  West  End  that 
have  now  been  completed  afford  the  opportunity  for 
that  change  in  style  of  house  construction  that  has  so 
long  been  a  desideratum  with  us.  There  are  a  number 
of  cities  in  the  United  States  that  are  far  in  advance 
of  New  York  in  this  respect,  where  the  residences  of 
the  leading  citizens  are  marked  by  aesthetic  surround- 
ings, and  an  individuality  that  are  not  seen  here.  The 


86 


NEW  YORK. 


territory  at  the  West  End  is  so  admirably  divided  up  by 
the  broad  boulevard  through  the  centre,  the  open  space 
of  Central  Park  on  the  east  and  the  Riverside  Park  on 
the  west — that  the  interminable  vistas  of  brown  stone 
that  characterize  the  rest  of  the  city  are  impossible, 
while  unexampled  facilities  are  supplied  for  the  erection 
of  elegant  homes  that  will  do  credit  to  their  owners 
and  will  be  ornaments  to  the  cit}'.  Instead  of  expend- 
ing from  ^30,000  to  ^50,000  for  a  corner  lot  on  Fifth 
avenue,  from  four  to  six  lots  can  here  be  now  purchased 
for  that  sum,  and  the  indications  are  that  men  of  fore- 
sight and  good  judgment  are  availing  themselves  of  the 
chances  that  are  thus  offered.  Steam  transit  has  ac- 
complished in  a  year  what  a  decade  would  have  failed 
to  do  without  it.  The  admirable  service  on  the  elevated 
roads  has  shown  with  what  comfort  and  facility^  a  home 
in  this  vicinity  can  be  reached,  and  as  these  roads  will 
be  running  through  the  West  End  this  spring,  a  decided 
movement  has  already  begun,  and  building  opera- 
tions on  an  extensive  scale  have  been  commenced, 
the  most  marked  of  which  is  that  at  7 2d  street  and 
Eighth  avenue,  where  there  is  to  be  erected  an  edifice 
that  will  be  equal  to  anything  of  the  kind  in  this  or  any 
other  city.  Some  fine  private  residences  will  also  be 
erected  this  spring  on  the  unrivaled  Riverside  avenue. 
This  splendid  avenue '  is  to  be  fully  completed  and 
'  opened  during  the  coming  season.  Visitors  to  the 
City  and  the  Central  Park,  in  1890,  will  probably  find 
the  entire  region  westward  to  the  river  built  up  in 
a  manner  consistent  with  the  surrounding  public  im- 
provements. 

"  If  there  appears  to  be  the  least  exaggeration  in  this 


FUTURE  FASHIONABLE  CENTRE. 


87 


Statement  let  us  reflect  for  a  moment  on  the  striking- 
fact  that,  with  the  exceptions  of  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  the  General  Post  Office  and  that  of  Madison 
Square,  23d  street,  there  is  no  spot  in  the  city  where 
a  larger  number  of  people  can  be  concentrated,  in  the 
shortest  space  of  time,  with  the  readiest  means  of  loco- 
motion, than  '  The  Circle '  at  the  Eio^hth  avenue  and 
59th  street  entrance  of  the  Central  Park;  and  yet,  in 
ignorance  of  this  fact,  this  point  is  probably  regarded 
by  nine-tenths  of  our  citizens  as  comparatively  isolated. 
The  elevated  railways,  which  in  this  immediate  vicinity 
come  together,  and  meet  eight  lines  of  surface  railways, 
have  accomplished  this  result.  While  the  triangle  be- 
tween St.  Paul's  and  the  Post  Office  will  be  for  many 
years  to  come  what  it  now  is,  the  most  active  focus  of 
the  business  portion  of  the  city,  '  The  Circle  '  has  been 
made,  by  the  facilities  for  locomotion  afforded  at  that 
point,  the  chief  centre  of  social  life.  Here  will  be 
erected  in  a  shorter  period  of  time  than  most  people 
imagine  the  great  Palace  Hotel,  combining  the  elegance 
of  the  Windsor  with  the  comfort  of  the  Fifth  Avenue 
and  the  convenience  of  the  Astor.  In  close  proximity 
will  be  the  Conservatory  of  Music,  which  will  be  the 
permanent  home  of  both  English  and  Italian  opera,  with 
adjoining  accommodations  that  can  afford  ample  space 
for  social  entertainments,  both  in  winter  and  summer, 
on  a  scale  that  the  increasing  size  of  the  city  demands. 
The  other  leading  places  of  amusement  will  also  con- 
gregate in  the  vicinity,  on  account  of  the  facility-  with 
which  they  can  be  reached  from  all  other  parts  of  the 
city." 


88 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  HARBOR  OF  NEW  YORK. 

MATURAL  ADVANTAGES  OF  THE  HARBOR — THE  OUTER  AND  INNER  BAYS — EXCURSIONS — A  TItn' 

DOWN  THE  HARBOR — SCENES  ALONG  THE  ROUTE — THE  SHIPPING — THROUGH  THE  INNER  BAY 

— governor's    ISLAND  BEDLOe's    AND   ELLIS*    ISLANDS — BARTHOLDl'S  STATUE — LIBERTY 

ENLIGHTENING  THE  WORLD — THE  KILL  VAN  KULL — STATEN  ISLAND  THE  NARROWS — THE 

FORTIFICATIONS — THE  OUTER  BAY — QUARANTINE — CONEY  ISLAND — SCENES  IN  THE  LOWER 
BAY — SANDY  HOOK — OUT  TO  SEA — BACK  TO  NEW  YORK. 

The  Harbor  of  New  York  is  one  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful sheets  of  water  in  the  world.  It  consists  of  an  In- 
ner and  an  Outer  Bay,  connected  by  the  strait  known 
as  "The  Narrows."  Between  them  lie  Staten  and 
Long  Islands,  two  natural  barriers  which  render  the 
Inner  Bay  one  of  the  safest  of  snug  harbors.  The 
Outer  Bay,  though  less  sheltered  than  the  Inner,  affords, 
safe  and  commodious  anchorage  for  the  fleets  of  the 
world. 

In  the  summer  and  early  fall  steamers  make  daily 
trips  from  the  city  to  the  ocean  and  back,  and  carry 
thousands  of  passengers  bent  on  enjoying  the  sea  breeze 
and  the  glorious  scenery  of  the  harbor.  We  invite  the 
reader  to  take  passage  with  us  on  one  of  these. 

We  start  from  one  of  the  up-town  piers  on  the  North 
River  side,  and  make  several  landings  between  our 
point  of  departure  and  the  Battery,  at  each  of  which 
we  add  largely  to  our  cargo  of  human  freight.  The 
steamer  glides  swiftly  along  the  city  front,  by  the 
hundreds  of  vessels  lying  at  the  piers  and  anchored  in 
the  stream.  Here,  moored  to  their  piers,  each  of  which 
is  covered  by  an  enormous  wooden  shed,  are  the  great 
European  steamships.    You  may  tell  them  by  the  color 


HARBOR  SCENES. 


of  and  the  marks  upon  their  smoke  stacks.    Two  or. 
three  are  anchored  in  the  river,  having  just  come  in 
fromi  the  ocean  voyage,  and  are  still  dingy  and  dirty 
with  the  smoke  and  grime  of  travel.    Further  dpwn 
are  the  steamers  plying  between  New  York  and  Ameri- 
can ports,  the  floating  palaces  of  the  Hudson  and  Long 
Island  Sound,  and  numbers  of  river  craft.    The  huge 
•    ferry  boats,  black  with  passengers,  cross  and  recross 
our  track,  and  it  requires  not  a  little  skill  on  the  part 
of  our  steersman  to  keep  safely  out  of  their  way.  Tugs 
are  puffing  by  us  with  heavily  laden  vessels,  or  vessels 
in  ballast,  guiding  them  skillfully  along  their  course. 
The  flags  of  all  the  countries  of  the  world  are  floating 
out  from  ship  and  shore,  and  the  river  presents  a  gay 
and  animated  scene.    On  the  opposite  side  is  Jersey 
City,  the  most  conspicuous  objects  of  the  shore  line 
being  the  great  ferry  houses  which  mark  the  depots  of 
the  various  railway  lines  leading  south  and  west  from 
New  York.    In  the  not  distant  future  the  tunnel  now 
in  construction  under  the  Hudson  will  connect  New 
Jersey  with  New  York,  and  the  railways  will  enter  the 
city  by  means  of  it. 

The  last  landing  has  been  made,  and  our  steamer 
now  turns  her  head  toward  the  Inner  Bay.  Just  off  the 
Battery  we  pass  a  fine  frigate  and  a  monitor,  fly- 
ing the  national  flag,  and  near  them  notice  several 
foreign  men  of  war  riding  at  their  anchors.  From  the 
steamer's  deck  the  lower  end  of  the  city  and  the  spires 
and  towers  that  rise  from  it  make  a  pleasing  picture, 
while  across  the  East  River  is  Brooklyn,  its  heights 
crowned  with  stately  mansions,  and  between  the  two 
cities  swings  the  great  bridge  that  is  to  connect  them. 


FOR'IIFICATIONS  OF  THE  HARBOR. 


91 


On  our  left  is  Governor's  Island,  with  the  half  round 
fort  of  Castle  William,  and  the  more  formidable  works 
of  Fort  Columbus  beyond  it.  The  American  flag  is 
flying-  from  a  tall  staff  about  the  centre  of  the  island, 
and  the  troops  of  the  garrison  can  be  seen  engaged 
at  their  manoeuvres  on  the  parade  ground.  Across  the 
harbor,  near  the  Jersey  shore,  is  Ellis's  Island,  on  which 
is  situated  Fort  Gibson,  armed  with  twenty  heavy  guns. 
To  the  south  of  it  is  a  larger  island,  known  as  Bedloe's, 
on  which  stands  Fort  Wood,  which  mounts  eighty  guns. 
This  island  is  well  out  in  the  bay,  and  commands  an 
unobstructed  view  through  the  Narrows,  out  to  sea. 
Upon  this  island  is  to  stand  Bartholdi's  great  statue  of 
"Liberty  Enlightening  the  World."  This  remarkable 
work  is  the  gift  of  numbers  of  French  citizens,  to  New 
York,  and  is  gigantic  in  size,  being  intended  as  a  light- 
house as  well  as  an  ornament  to  the  harbor.  A  writer  in 
Scribners  Magazine  for  June,  1877,  thus  describes  the 
statue  and  the  site  chosen  for  it :  "  One  can  see  that 
Bedloe's  Island  is  a  very  central  point  in  the  complex 
of  rivers  and  islands  forming  what  is  really  the  city  of 
New  York — Manhattan  Island  is  only  one  and  the 
chief  portion  of  our  city.  Hoboken,  Jersey  City,  Staten 
Island,  Bay  Ridge,  and  Brooklyn  are  already  parts  of 
it ;  in  the  future  they  will  always  tend  to  be  bound 
more  closely  around  New  York  proper.  Bedloe's 
Island  is  therefore  a  nearly  central  point  in  the  Upper 
Bay,  about  which  lie  those  detached  portions  of  the 
future,  if  not  of  the  present  city,  and  its  small  size  will 
only  add  to  the  effect  of  any  gigantic  statue  erected  on 
it.    The  fort  will  be  an  advanced  part  or  terrace  to  the 


92 


NEW  YORK. 


pedestal  of  the  figu»re,  which  will  rise  high  above  any 
other  object  in  the  immediate  neighborhood. 

"  Allowing  twenty  feet  for  the  height  of  the  island 
above  the  water,  the  pedestal  is  to  be  one  hundred  and 
ten  feet  high,  and  the  statue,  to  the  flame  of  the  torch, 
one  hundred  and  forty-five.  This  makes  the  torch  at 
least  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  Bay.  It  will  equal  in  height  the  column  of  the 
Place  Vendome,  at  Paris,  and  will  be  larger  than  the 
Collossus  at  Rhodes,  so  much  celebrated  by  antiquity. 
Like  that  statue,  it  will  have  to  be  cast  in  pieces  of  man- 
ageable size,  and  built  up,  much  after  the  manner  of  an 
armored  frigate.  The  construction  will  be  a  curious 
piece  of  engineering  skill.  At  night  it  is  proposed  that 
a  halo  of  jets  of  light  shall  radiate  from  the  temples  of 
the  enormous  goddess,  and  perhaps  the  flame  of  the 
torch  may  be  fashioned  in  crystal,  in  order  that  it  may 
catch  the  light  of  the  sun  by  day,  and  at  night  form  a 
glowing  object  illuminated  by  electricity. 

"  In  respect  to  the  pose  of  the  statue,  that  has  been 
calculated  with  care.  A  Liberty  would  have  to  be 
draped,  even  if  a  draped  statue  were  not  advisable,  in 
a  climate  as  cold  as  ours,  where  nude  figures  suggest 
extreme  discomfort.  But  M.  Bartholdi  has  also  used 
his  drapery  to  give  a  tower-like  and  therefore  solid 
look  to  the  lofty  woman,  without  forgetting  the  neces- 
sity for  variety  in  the  upward  lines.     *     *     *  * 

"  She  will  stand  so  as  to  suggest  that  the  strongest 
hurricane  could  never  budge  her  from  the  pedestal 
she  has  chosen.  Her  gesture  is  meant  to  call  the 
attention  of  the  most  distant  person,  and,  moreover, 
to   let   him    know    unmistakably   what   the  figure 


94 


NEW  YORK. 


means.  For  in  this  statue  M.  Bartholdi  has  applied 
his  science  to  fine  effect  in  getting  the  figure  outlined 
against  the  sky,  while  the  energetic  attitude  has  not 
interfered  with  a  certain  dignified  repose  which  inheres 
in  the  resting  position,  and  which  may  be  owing  to  the 
weight  of  the  body  being  thrown  on  the  left  leg,  as 
well  as  to  the  grave  folds  of  ample  drapery.  Even  if 
a  stranger  approaching  from  the  Narrows  should  not 
know  at  once  what  she  is  holding  up  for  him  to  see,  the 
energy  of  her  action  will  awaken  his  curiosity,  and  the 
dignity  of  it  will  make  him  await  a  nearer  approach 
with  confidence.  When  he  can  make  out  the  tablets  of 
the  law  which  jut  out  from  her  left  side  as  they  rest  on 
her  bent  arm,  and  the  flaming  torch  which  she  holds 
high  up  above  her  head,  while  her  eyes  are  fixed  on  the 
horizon,  he  will  be  dull  indeed  if  he  does  not  under- 
stand what  she  wishes  to  tell." 

This  grand  statue  will  be  the  most  notable  ornament 
of  the  harbor,  and  one  of  the  most  prominent  attrac- 
tions of  the  city.  A  model  of  the  arm  with  the  up- 
lifted torch  is  now  standing  in  Madison  Square,  where 
it  has  been  much  admired.  It  was  originally  exhibited 
at  the  Centennial  Exhibition  at  Philadelphia,  and  was 
removed  to  New  York  after  the  close  of  the  World's 
Fair.  The  statue  will  be  of  bronze,  and,  it  is  hoped, 
will  be  completed  and  erected  within  a  year  or  two. 

Looking  back  up  the  harbor,  we  see  the  broad  Hud- 
son stretching  away  to  the  northward,  with  the  high 
bluffs  of  New  Jersey  on  the  west,  and  the  stately  spires 
of  New  York  on  the  east.  Between  Governor's  Island 
and  the  city,  the  East  River,  crowded  with  shipping 
and  full  of  moving  steamers,  stretches  away  until  its 


THE  NARROWS. 


95 


shores  seem  to  meet.  Brooklyn  unrolls  itself  like  a 
vast  panorama  as  our  steamer  speeds  by  it,  and  the 
shores  of  Long  Island  spread  away  beyond  it.  On  our 
right  is  now  a  little  white  lighthouse,  situated  on  "a 
shoal,  marking  the  entrance  to  the  Kill  Van  Kull,  or 
Staten  Island  Sound,  a  placid  sheet  of  water  separating 
Staten  Island  from  the  Jersey  shore.  It  is  full  of  small 
craft,  and  looks  very  inviting  as  we  sail  by  it.  The 
bold  heights  of  Staten  Island  rise  up  on  our  right,  lined 
from  shore  to  summit  with  picturesque  villages  and 
villas,  all  embowered  in  bright  green  foliage.  Pretty 
villas  are  also  seen  on  the  distant  shores  of  Long 
Island,  and  we  can  see  the  steamers  darting  swiftly 
towards  the  landing  at  Bay  Ridge,  where  the  passengers 
will  take  the  cars  for  Coney  Island. 

The  shores  of  Staten  and  Long  Island  now  draw 
nearer  together,  the  former  rising  to  a  bold  headland, 
the  summit  of  which  is  over  one  hundred  feet  from  the 
water.  The  strip  of  water  between  the  islands  is 
about  a  mile  in  width,  and  is  known  as  the  Narrows.  It 
connects  the  Outer  and  Inner  Bays,  and  is  strongly 
fortified.  The  principal  defences  of  the  city  are  at  this 
point,  and  the  shores  on  either  hand  bristle  with  guns. 
On  the  Long  Island  shore  is  Fort  Hamilton,  a  large 
casemated  work,  built  in  the  old-fashioned  style.  It 
was  begun  ii^  1824,  and  was  finished  in  1832.  It  cost 
$550,000,  and  mounts  eighty  heavy  guns.  Since  the 
Civil  War,  extensive  additions  have  been  made  to  it  in 
the  shape  of  outer  batteries,  mortar  batteries,  etc. 
The  fort  is  a  pretty  place,  and  is  visited  by  thousands 
every  year  from  New  York  and  Brooklyn.  It  is  one 
of  the  principal  military  stations  on  the  Atlantic  coast. 


96 


NEW  YORK. 


and  its  officers  are  noted  for  their  hospitality.  It  looks 
very  peaceful  as  it  lies  back  amid  its  grass-covered 
parapets,  and  the  rows  of  guns  which  project  frorci  it 
seem  . innocent  enough  in  this  soft  summer  light. 

At  the  very  entrance  to  the  Narrows,  and  on  a  shoaj 
a  few  hundred  yards  distant  from  Fort  Hamilton,  stands 
Fort  Lafayette.  It  was  begun  in  1812.  and  occupies 
the  best  of  all  positions  for  the  defence  of  New  York 
Harbor.  During  the  Civil  War  it  was  used  as  a  prison 
for  political  offenders.  In  December,  1 868,  it  was  injured 
by  fire  to  such  an  extent  as  to  make  it  practically 
worthless,  unless  repaired  at  a  very  considerable 
outlay ;  and  as  it  was  adapted  to  guns  of  small  calibre 
only,  it  was  not  thought  worth  while  to  restore  it,  but 
to  replace  it  by  a  construction  which  should  meet  the 
demands  of  modern  armaments.  The  defence  of  New 
York  Harbor  requires  a  new  work  on  this  shoal  which 
will  admit  of  the  mounting  of  eighty  one-hundred-ton 
guns.  It  will  require  several  years  to  construct  such  a 
work  as  is  needed,  and  it  is  expected  that  it  will  be 
begun  without  delay.  The  old  fort  cost  $350,000,  and 
was  armed  with  seventy-three  guns. 

The  Staten  Island  shore  bristles  with  guns,  from  the 
water  line  to  the  summit  of  the  bluff.  These  works 
are  eight  in  number,  and  are  admirably  constructed 
and  strongly  armed.  They  are  known  as  Forts  Wads- 
worth  and  Tompkins  (the  latter  of  which  will  probably 
be  called  Fort  Richmond),  the  Glacis  Gun  Battery, 
north  of  Fort  Tompkins,  the  Glacis  Mortar  Battery^ 
south  of  Fort  Tompkins,  Battery  Hudson,  South  Mor- 
tar Battery,  North  Cliff  Battery,  and  South  Cliff  Bac^ 
tery. 


THE  STATEN  ISLAND  FORTS. 


97 


Fort  Wadsworth  was  commenced  in  1847,  con- 
stitutes a  part  of  the  second  line  of  defence  of  the 
southern  water  approach  to  New  York.  It  is  an 
enclosed  work,  built  of  granite,  containing  three  tiers 
of  guns  in  casemates  and  one  en  barbette,  the  lower  tier 
being  only  a  few  feet  above  the  water  level.  The 
work,  in  connection  with  those  adjacent  to  it  on  either 
side  of  Fort  Tompkins  and  the  two  adjacent  glacis  bat- 
teries on  the  hill  in  rear,  is  designed  to  throw  a  heavy 
concentrated  fire  on  vessels  approaching  or  attempting 
to  pass  through  the  Narrows,  crossing  its  fire  with  that 
of  Fort  Hamilton  and  batteries  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  channel. 

Fort  Tompkins  occupies  the  site  of  an  old  work,  and 
was  commenced  in  1858.  The  main  work,  with  the  glacis 
gun  battery  on  its  left  and  the  glacis  mortar  battery  on 
its  right,  crowns  the  hill  in  rear  of  Fort  Wadsworth 
and  the  earthen  batteries  known  as  North  Cliff  Bat- 
tery, South  Cliff  Battery,  Battery  Hudson,  and  the 
South  Mortar  Battery.  It  is  an  inclosed  pentagonal 
work,  having  on  its  four  land  faces  two  tiers  of  case- 
mate quarters,  a  deep  dry  ditch  and  a  heavy  battery  to 
resist  a  land  attack,  and  on  its  channel  front  seventeen 
large  casemates  for  storage  and  other  purposes.  I/r 
mounts  its  channel-bearing  guns  e7i  barbette.  It  isv 
intended  to  supply  quarters  for  the  garrison  and  act  as 
a  keep  or  citadel  for  all  the  defensive  works  occupymg 
this  position.  This  work  will  be  able  to  throw  a  heavy 
fire  from  a  commanding  position  upon  vessels  attempt- 
ing to  pass  through  the  Narrows.  The  four  land  faces 
were,  for  all  defensive  purposes,  finished  in  1865.  In 
December,  1869,  a  plan  giving  such  increased  depth 

T 


98 


NEW  YORK. 


to  the  casemates  that  heavy  rifled  guns  could  be 
mounted  over  them  en  ba7'bette,  was  adopted  and 
carried  into  execution. 

Battery  Hudson  was  commenced  in  1841,  and  was 
finished  in  1843.  Together  with  the  North  and  South 
CHff  Batteries,  it  occupies  the  slope  of  the  hill  between 
Fort  Tompkins  and  the  water.  These  works  are  able 
to  bring  a  powerful  direct  fire  upon  the  channel  leading 
up  to  and  through  the  Narrows. 

The  South  Mortar  Battery  was  commenced  in  1872, 
and  is  situated  south  of  Fort  Tompkins,  and  directly 
in  the  rear  of  Battery  Hudson  extension.  It  is 
designed  to  throw  a  heavy  vertical  fire  upon  vessels 
approaching  the  Narrows  from  the  Lower  Bay. 

These  powerful  works  are  as  yet  unfinished,  but 
when  completed  and  properly 'armed,  will  render  the 
passage  of  an  enemy's  fleet  through  The  Narrows  a 
doubtful,  if  not  an  impossible,  undertaking.  They  are 
so  peaceful  now  in  repose  that  we  cannot  obtain  any- 
thing like  an  accurate  idea  of  their  formidable  charac- 
ter. On  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  on  other  national 
holidays,  during  the  firing  of  the  noonday  salute,  they 
present  a  grand  sight.  From  both  sides  of  the  Nar- 
rows tongues  of  fire  dart  forth  from  the  heavy  guns, 
and  the  waters  of  the  bay  tremble  under  the  prolonged 
roar  of  artillery. 

Our  steamer  passes  through  the  Narrows,  and  now 
darts  out  into  the  broad  Lower,  Bay.  The  Staten 
Island  Hills  sweep  away  in  a  graceful  curve  to  the 
southwest,  and  under  them  lies  Raritan  Bay,  a  small 
arm  of  New  York  Bay,  through  which  the  Raritan 
River  empties  into  the  sea. 


QUARANTINE.  99 
» 

Out  in  the  Bay,  a  mile  or  so  below  the  Narrows,  are 
Dix  and  Hoffman  Islands,  occupied  by  the  State  of  New 
York  as  a  Quarantine  Station.  This  is  the  Lower 
Quarantijie.  One  hears  so  much  of  Quarantine  that  it 
may  be  interesting  to  look  a  little  more  closely  at  this 
famous  place. 

"Quarantine  is  divided  into  two  sections,  generally 
known  as  'upper'  and  'lower'  Quarantine.  From 
October  to  April  the  boarding  is  done  at  the  upper  sta- 
tion, the  grounds  of  which  lie  between  Fort  Wads- 
^vorth  and  Clifton  Landing,  on  Staten  Island,  a  little 
over  a  half  mile  from  either  point.  It  is  here  that  the 
health  officers  reside,  viz :  Dr.  Vandferpoel,  the  senior 
officer,  and  his  deputies,  Drs.  J.  McCartney  and  Thomp- 
son. During  the  other  months  of  the  year  vessels 
coming  from  the  West  Indies,  South  America,  the  west 
coast  of  Africa,  and  from  infected  ports,  are  visited  at 
the  lower  station,  which  is  situated  at  West  Bank, 
about  two  miles  below  Fort  Wadsworth,  and  the  same 
distance  from  shore.  The  boarding  station  is  the  old 
hulk  Illinois,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Government, 
and  transferred  to  the  use  of  the  State  for  an  indefinite 
period.  She  can  also  be  used  as  a  hospital,  having  all 
the  appurtenances  on  board  for  such  a  purpose.  Near  it 
are  the  two  quarantine  islands,  known  as  Dix  and  Hoff- 
man Islands.  The  former  is  used  for  the  reception  of 
cholera  and  yellow  fever  patients,  except  when  both 
•diseases  prevail  at  the  same  time,  when  those  sick  with 
one  disease  are  quartered  on  one  island  and  the  remain- 
der on  the  other,  as  the  law  prescribes  that  persons 
sick  with  different  diseases  are  not  to  be  put  in  the 
same  hospital.    Smallpox  patients  are  sent  to  Black- 


100  NEW  YORK. 

well's  Island,  and  those  with  Typhus  or  ship  fever  are 
sent  to  Ward's  Island.  On  the  arrival  of  infected  ves- 
sels, all  well  persons  are  given  their  freedom  as  soon 
as  practicable,  after  having  their  clothing  thoroughly 
fumigated.  Before  being  admitted  to  the  hospital  the 
clothing  of  the  sick  is  removed  and  thrown  into  a  solu- 
tion of  carbolic  acid,  and  the  persons  thoroughly  fumi- 
gated. The  only  diseases  against  which  quarantine 
applies  are  yellow  fever,  cholera,  typhus,  or  ship  fever, 
smallpox,  and  any  disease  of  a  contagious  or  pesti- 
lential nature.  Vessels  from  foreign  ports,  and  from 
domestic  ports  south  of  Cape  Henlopen,  and  vessels 
upon  which  any  persons  shall  have  been  sick  during 
the  voyage,  are  subject  to  visitation  by  the  health  officer, 
but  are  not  detained  beyond  the  time  requisite  for 
proper  examination,  unless  an  infectious  disease  shall 
have  occurred  during  the  voyage.  Persons  recently 
exposed  to  smallpox,  with  insufficient  evidence  of 
effective  vaccination,  are  vaccinated  as  soon  as  practi- 
cable, and  detained  until  the  operation  has  taken  effect. 
Vessels  arriving  from  any  place  where  disease  subject 
to  quarantine  existed  at  the  time  of  their  departure, 
or  which  have  had  cases  of  such  disease  on  board 
during  the  voyage,  are  quarantined  at  least  thirty  days 
after  their  arrival,  provided  this  occurs  between  the 
first  of  April  and  first  of  November.  If  a  vessel  be 
found  in  a  condition  which  the  health  officer  should 
deem  dangerous  to  the  public  health,  the  vessel  and 
cargo  are  detained  until  the  case  is  duly  considered  by 
him.  Vessels  in  an  unhealthy  state,  whether  there  has 
been  sickness  on  board  or  not,  are  not  passed  by  the 
doctor  until  they  have  been  cleansed  and  ventilated. 


QUARANTINE  REGULATIONS. 


101 


If  in  the  judgment  of  the  health  officer  the  vessel 
requires  it,  he  may  order  a  complete  purification,  and 
remand  it  to  quarantine  anchorage  until  disinfection  is 
perfected.  A  vessel  has  the  right,  before  breaking  out 
her  cargo,  in  preference  to  being  quarantined,  of  put- 
ting to  sea;  but  before  exercising  this  right  the  health 
officer  is  required  to  satisfy  himself  that  the  sick  in 
such  cases  will  be  taken  care  of  for  the  voyage,  and  ta 
take  care  of  those  who  prefer  to  remain. 

"During  the  past  summer  a  vigilant  inspection  has 
been  made  of  all  vessels  arriving  from  Savannah  as 
well  as  other  ports  where  yellow  fever  was  prevalent. 
Every  vessel  has  been  fumigated  with  chlorine  gas,, 
special  attention  being  giving  to  European  vessels  car- 
rying a  large  number  of  steerage  passengers.  Many 
complaints  have  been  made  on  account  of  the  charges 
for  fumigation,  which  range  from  $io  to  $25  for  each 
vessel.  At  first  glance  these  may  seem  exorbitant,  but 
it  is  not  the  material  alone  which  costs,  but  the  work  is 
attended  with  much  danger,  and  hence  large  wages  are 
paid.  It  requires  at  least  three  persons,  besides  the 
doctor,  to  fumigate  a  vessel.  The  schedule  of  prices 
was  not  made  by  the  Health  Board,  but  by  a  board 
constituted  for  that  purpose,  of  which  the  Mayors  of 
New  York  and  Brooklyn  were  members.  It  is  stated, 
that  a  new  board,  to  establish  a  new  schedule,  is  to  be 
appointed. 

"The  two  deputy  health  officers  divide  their  duties  by 
taking  alternate  days  of  duty,  twenty-four  hours  each 
time.  Though  they  are  not  obliged  to  visit  vessels 
after  sunset,  as  a  matter  of  accoinmodation  to  sailing 
vessels  in  tow,  which  are  under  extra  expense,  they 


102 


NEW  YORK. 


frequently  make  visits  until  midnight.  They  also  board 
■coasting  vessels  after  sunset,  when  it  is  almost  certain 
that  they  have  had  no  sickness  which  would  subject 
them  to  quarantine,  but  all  vessels  with  a  large  num- 
ber of  passengers  must  lie  at  anchor  until  sunrise  before 
being  boarded,  so  that  they  may  undergo  careful  inspec- 
tion. Between  the  first  of  November  and  the  first  of 
April,  vessels  from  domestic  ports  are  permitted  to  go 
to  the  city  without  being  boarded  by  the  health  officer, 
the  quarantine  regulations  for  them  being  declared 
**off"  during  that  interval.  It  frequently  happens  that 
at  sunrise  a  fleet  of  a  dozen  or  fifteen  vessels  may  have 
anchored  off  Quarantine  Station  during  the  night,  and 
the  doctor  is  several  hours  in  making  his  tour.  As  the 
first  round  of  visitations  is  made  before  breakfast,  it 
sometimes  delays  the  taking  of  that  meal  until  late  in 
the  day;  in  fact,  regular  hours  are  an  impossibility  tc 
those  attached  to  the  station.  Usually  vessels  are 
boarded  from  the  quarantine  tug  Governor  Fenton,  but 
it  happened  a  short  time  since,  during  the  first  part  of 
a  storm,  that  the  tug  broke  her  shaft,  and  a  small  boat 
was  used.  The  doctor  appeared  at  sunrise  fully 
equipped  in  his  storm-clothes,  and  started  on  his  tour. 
A  large  fleet  had  collected,  and  through  a  driving  rain 
and  choppy  sea,  for  four  hours,  he  went  from  one  vessel 
to  another  in  f^ursuit  of  his  investigations,  and  his  labors 
were  not  ended  until  after  eleven  o'clock.  During  the 
g"ale,  though  very  few  vessels  arrived,  the  duties  of  the 
health  officer  were  arduous.  Running  alongside  a  great 
ocean  steamer  with  a  ''Jacob's  ladder"  over  the  side, 
the  doctor  would  wait  his  chances  for  the  sea  to  lift  the 
boat,  and  then  grasping  the  "  man-ropes,"  scramble  up 


THE  OUTER  BAY. 


the  side  of  the  ship  and  make  the  necessary  investiga- 
tion of  the  vessel  and  persons  on  board.  The  present 
board  has  been  in  office  since  1871,  while  some  of  the 
deputies  have  seen  longer  service." 

To  the  northward,  or  on  our  left,  are  the  immense 
hotels  and  other  structures  of  Coney  Island,  all  plainly 
visible,  and  seemingly  alive  with  people.  As  we  steam 
on,  now  turning  our  course  to  the  eastward,  Rockaway 
and  Rockaway  Beach  come  in  sight,  and  on  their  white 
and  distant  shores  we  see  the  monster  hotel  and  the 
other  caravansaries  which  make  this  place  a  formidable 
rival  to  Coney  Island  as  a  breathing  place  for  the 
Metropolis. 

The  Bay  grows  wider,  and  the  swell  increases  as  we 
speed  to  the  Eastward.  On  the  south  we  now  see 
plainly  the  bold  headlands  of  the  Neversink  High- 
lands, and  in  a  short  while  Sandy  Hook,  with  its  tall 
lighthouses  and  dark,  frowning  fort,  are  directly  off  our 
starboard  quarter.  Over  the  whole  scene  the  clear  sun 
sends  a  flood  of  brilliancy;  the  air  is  cool  and  bracing, 
and  the  water  smooth.  The  boat  dances  gaily  over 
the  wa^j^es,  and  at  length  we  pass  the  bar  and  are  at 
sea.  The  Light-ship  nods  dreamily  to  us  far  out  on 
the  blue  waters,  as  if  inviting  a  visit  from  us  ;  but  we 
do  not  go  so  far  to  sea.  A  short  distance  beyond  the 
bar  the  steamer  puts  about,  and  turning  its  head  to 
the  westward,  starts  on  its  return  to  the  city.  We 
enjoy  a  delightful  sail  up  the  Bay,  and  as  the  sun  is 
sinking  behind  the  distant  Jersey  hills,  we  pass  through 
the  Narrows,  and  speeding  over  the  gold-tinged  waters 
of  the  Inner  Bay,  are  soon  landed  at  the  pier  from 
which  we  started  on  our  voyage  of  delight. 


104 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SANDY  HOOK. 

©ESCRIPTION  OF  "  THE  HOOK  " — A  NOTED  LANDMARK — A  SANDY  WASTE — THE  COVE — THE  BEACH 
— THE  LIGHT-SHIPS — THE  LIFE  SAVING  STATION — SANDY  HOOK  LIGHTHOUSE — ITS  HISTORV 
— THE  keeper's  HOUSE — WRECKS — IN  THE  LIGHT-TOWER — A  GRAND  VIEW — OCEAN  CBMB< 
TERY — THE  FORTIFICATIONS — TESTING  THE  HEAVY  GUNS — THE  NORTH  LIGHT — THE  SYRENS 
—THE  TELEGRAPH  STATION. 

Nineteen  miles  seaward  from  New  York,  on  the 
western  side  of  the  Bay,  is  a  narrow  strip  of  white 
sand,  projecting  northward  into  the  bright  waters. 
Seen  from  a  steamer  s  deck  on  a  clear  day  it  gleams 
like  a  streak  of  polished  silver;  but  when  the  skies  are 
dull  and  gray,  or  overhung  with  clouds,  it  lies  leaden 
and  dead  in  the  half  light.  This  is  Sandy  Hook,  a  long, 
low,  sandy  peninsular  of  drift  formation,  the  continua- 
tion of  a  sand  reef  skirting  the  New  Jersey  coast.  It 
projects  northward  five  miles  into  the  Lower  Bay  of 
New  York,  and  forms  the  eastern  breakwater  of  Sandy 
Hook  Bay.  In  width  it  varies  from  fifty  yards  at  the 
Neck,  near  Highlands  Bridge,  where  jetties  of  brush- 
wood form  but  a  frail  protection  against  easterly 
storms,  to  a  full  mile  at  the  point  where  the  main  light 
is  located. 

Many  an  eye  has  watched  this  strip  of  sand  sadly  as 
some  outgoing  steamer  turned  its  head  to  the  sea  and 
began  its  long  way  across  the  Atlantic ;  and  many  a 
heart  has  beat  more  quickly  as  it  came  plainly  into 
view,  the  homeward  voyage  over,  for  beyond  it  lie  tlie 
bright  waters  and  the  smiling  shores  of  home. 


SANDY  HOOK  LIGHT-SHIPS. 


105 


A  pleasant  and  profitable  afternoon  may  be  spent  in 
'  a  visit  to  this  interesting  spot.    Taking  the  Long 
Branch  steamer,  we  are  carried  swiftly  down  the  Inner 
Bay,  through  the  Narrows,  and  out  upon  the  broad 
bosom  of  the  Lower  Bay,  which  is  finally  left  to  the 
eastward,  and  our  steamer  passing  into  the  calmer 
waters  of  Sandy  Hook  Bay,  or,  as  it  is  more  commonly 
called,    the  Cove,"  lands  us  at  the  wharf  of  the  New 
Jersey  Southern  Railway.    Once  on  shore,  we  see  a 
waste  of  sand  all  around  us,  covered  thjckly  in  parts 
with  cedars  and  a  scrub  undergrowth,  with  clear  patches 
of  shining  white  here  and  there,  and  at  intervals  are  a 
number  of  buildings  which  are  used  for  various  pur- 
poses.   Leaving  the  railroad,  we  take  our  way  over 
the  sands  towards  the  point  of  the  Hook,  and  soon 
reach  the  bright  and  shining  beach.     At  our  feet  the 
breakers  roll  in  lazily  with  a  monotonous  plash  as  they 
waste  themselves  on  the  shore.    Far  away  stretches 
the  blue  Atlantic,  calm  and  fair  to  look  upon  now,  but 
terrible  at  times.    When  the  fierce  gales  of  winter 
sweep  down  upon  the  coast,  the  surf  comes  rolling  in 
"mountain  high,"  and  dashes  upon  the  beach  with  a 
wild,  angry  roar,  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who 
have  listened  to  it.    About  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the 
eastward  is  the  Scotland  Light-ship,  rocking  lazily  upon 
the  placid  sea,  and  six  miles  further  east  the  Sandy 
Hook  Light-ship  is  seen  rising  and  falling  with  the  long, 
regular  heave  of  the  ocean.    The  latter  ship  marks 
the  point  from  which  all  vessels  bound  for  New  York 
shape  their  course  for  the  Lower  Bay,  and  from  which 
the  European  steamers  begin  to  reckon  their  voyages  to 
the  Old  World.    It  is  painted  red,  and  carries  two  fixed 


106 


NEW  YORK. 


red  lights  elevated  forty-five  feet  above  the  surface  ot 
the  water.  At  night  they  glare  out  upon  the  waves 
like  two  great  sleepless  eyes,  welcoming  the  seaman 
home,  and  telling  him  of  the  dangers  that  lie  in  his 
path.  When  the  mists  settle  down  over  sea  and  shore^ 
you  can  hear  the  hoarse  voice  of  its  great  fog  horn 
moaning  across  the  deep,  warning  the  watchful  mari- 
ner that  the  shore  and  the  breakers  are  near.  Now^ 
in  the  bright  calm  day,  it  sways  idly  with  the  waves» 
and  looks  lonely  and  forlorn.  Far  down  toward  the 
horizon  is  the  long  black  trail  of  the  smoke  of  one  of  the 
outward  bound  steamers,  and  in  every  direction  the 
sunlight  flashes  back  from  the  white  sails  of  various 
kinds  of  craft,  leaving  and  making  for  the  Bay. 

Close  at  hand  is  a  low,  red  building,  used  as  a  life- 
saving  station.  It  is  provided  with  all  the  appliances 
necessary  to  the  humane  work  to  which  it  is  devoted^ 
and  is  in  charge  of  a  keeper  and  a  competent  force. 
From  April  15th  to  September  15th  a  careful  watch  is 
kept  along  the  beach,  and  two  patrols  nightly  pace  the 
sands  on  the  lookout  for  vessels  in  distress.  For  some 
years,  however,  they  have  had  but  little  opportunity  to 
show  their  skill.  Few  vessels  now  come  ashore  at 
Sandy  Hook.  Long  Branch,  Squan,  and  Barnegat^ 
lower  down  the  Jersey  coast,  have  been  the  scenes  of 
almost  all  the  recent  wrecks.  Yet  the  Hook  has  had 
its  share  of  disasters,  as  the  light-keeper  will  tell  you, 
if  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  draw  him  into  conver- 
sation. 

Before  us,  and  not  far  back  from  the  point  of  the 
Hook,  is  the  main  light-tower,  and  pressing  on,  we  are 
soon  at  the  foot  of  it    This  spot  has  been  the  site  of 


THE  LIGHTHOUSE. 


i07 


one  of  the  principal  lighthouses  on  our  coast  from  a 
very  early  period  of  our  history.  In  1679-80,  Gover- 
nor Andrews,  of  New  York,  urged  upon  Governor  Car- 
teret, of  East  Jersey,  the  necessity  of  establishing  a 
light,  or  "  sea  marks  for  shipping  upon  Sandy  Point," 
as  the  Hook  was  then  called.  Nothing  came  of  this 
suggestion,  and  for  eighty  years  the  shore  remained  in 
darkness.  The  necessity  for  a  light  grew  more  appa- 
rent every  day,  however ;  and  in  1761  the  merchants 
of  New  York  began  to  take  steps  toward  establishing 
one.  The  money  was  raised  by  two  lotteries,  which 
were  authorized  for  the  purpose  by  the  Assembly  of 
New  York,  and  in  May,  1 762,  the  merchants  of  New 
York  purchased  a  tract  of  four  acres  at  the  point  of 
the  Hook,  from  Robert  and  Isaiah  Hartshorne,  the 
owners  of  the  peninsula,  for  the  sum  of  ^750,  or  about 
$3750  in  United  States  money.  By  this  purchase 
New  York  acquired  the  northern  part  of  the  peninsula. 
It  remained  the  property  of  that  State  until  it  was 
ceded  by  it  to  the  General  Government,  which,  some 
years  later,  purchased  from  the  Hartshorne  family  all 
the  remainder  of  the  peninsula  as  far  south  as  Young's 
creek.  The  first  lighthouse  was  completed,  and  the 
lamps  were  lit,  in  1764.  It  was  built  of  stone,  and 
"  measured  from  the  surface  of  the  ground  to  the  top 
of  the  lighthouse  106  feet."  The  claim  of  the  Province 
of  New  York  to  the  orieinal  four  acres  was  confirmed 
by  the  British  Government,  and  an  act  of  George  the 
Third,  dated  May  226.,  1762,  provided  that  actions  for 
trespasses  on  Sandy  Hook  should  be  tried  by  the 
courts  of  New  York.  To  defray  the  cost  of  maintain- 
ing the  light,  New  York  levied  a  duty  of  three  pence 


108 


NEW  YORK. 


per  ton  on  all  vessels  entering  the  port.  During  the 
first  year  after  the  lamps  were  lit,  this  duty  realized  the 
handsome  sum  of  ^487,  6s.,  gd.,  from  which  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  commerce  of  New  York  had  grown  to 
very  respectable  proportions.  In  March,  1776,  the 
British  fleet  being  daily  expected  in  the  Bay,  the  Pro- 
vincial Congress  caused  the  lights  to  be  removed.  It 
seems,  however,  that  the  walls  were  not  destroyed^ 
and  at  a  later  period  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution  the 
building  was  occupied  and  fortified  by  the  British. 

The  present  lighthouse  is  identical  with  that  of  1 764, 
as  far  as  the  walls  are  concerned.  Various  improve- 
ments have  been  made  in  the  edifice,  such  as  lining  the 
interior  with  brick,  and  replacing  the  old  wooden  stairs 
with  a  more  substantial  structure  of  iron.  The  lens  is 
of  French  construction,  and  is  ninety  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  the  lamps  are  of  the  most  improved  style. 
Near  the  foot  of  the  tower  is  the  cottage  of  the  keeper, 
with  its  pleasant  shade  trees  and  pretty  garden,  and 
close  at  hand  is  the  barn,  with  its  cow  sheds,  built  of 
wreck  wood,  that  has  been  cast  ashore  by  the  merci- 
less waves.  Many  a  stout  vessel  has  contributed  its 
share  to  the  construction  of  these  humble  sheds,  and 
each  plank  and  post,  each  rafter  and  beam,  has  ita^ 
story  of  manly  daring,  high  hopes,  storm  and  wreck, 
despair  and  death,  all  swallowed  up  by  the  dark  waters 
that  beat  upon  the  sands.  Nightly,  for  nineteen  long 
years,  has  Keeper  Patterson  climbed  the  long  iron 
stairs,  trimmed  his  lamps,  and  sent  their  bright  rays 
far  over  the  waves,  and  many  an  interesting  story  can 
he  relate  of  the  wrecks  that  have  strewn  the  beach 
during  this  long  period.    Since  he  first  lit  these  lamps^ 


RELICS   OF  STORM  AND  WRECK. 


10^ 


more  than  fifty  wrecks  have  occurred  within  sight  of 
Sandy  Hook  light.  "Here  almost  every  object  offers  a 
suggestion  of  storm  and  disaster.  That  arm-chair  on 
the  piazza  drifted  ashore  from  the  brig  Swett,  which 
foundered  off  the  east  shore  during  the  winter  of  1868. 
Here  is  a  remnant  from  the  English  ship  Clyde,  and 
that  one  from  the  brig  Prospe?^,  which,  during  a  terrific 
gale,  drove  on  the  bar  near  the  west  beacon.  Here  is 
a  figure-head  that  once  danced  over  the  waves,  defiant 
of  storms,  now  warped  and  weather-stained ;  and  on 
the  side  of  the  barn,  just  below  the  dove  cot,  is  a  stern- 
board,  bearing  the  name  Trojan,  close  to  which  nestle 
the  cooing  doves.  One  side  of  the  hencoop  is  en- 
closed by  a  panel  from  a  French  brig,  elaborately 
carved  with  sprays  of  foliage,  which,  when  it  was  dis- 
entangled in  fragments  from  the  seawrack  upon  the 
beach,  was  gorgeous  with  gilding,  but  which,  with  the 
exception  of  a  bright  speck  here  and  there,  is  now  bare 
and  brown." 

From  the  lantern  the  eye  rests  upon  a  glorious  sight. 
On  one  side  is  the  ocean,  stretching  away  to  the  ho- 
rizon, with  vessels  of  all  classes  dotting  its  surface  ; 
and  on  the  other  the  lower  bay,  studded  with  ships, 
and  drawing  in  to  the  Narrows,  beyond  which  rise  the* 
shipping  of  the  inner  bay  and  the  distant  spires  of  Nevi 
York.  Near  the  end  of  the  Hook  is  the  unfinished 
fort,  which  guards  the  anchorage  within  Sandy  Hook 
Bay,  where  safe  at  anchor  ride  numbers  of  craft  of  all 
descriptions.  Far  across  the  bay  is  Long  Island,  and 
you  can  make  out  with  a  glass  the  great  hotels  at 
Rockaway ;  while  nearer  to  New  York  Coney  Island 
loon\s  up,  with  its  iron  tower,  its  famous  pier,  and  the 


110  ^     NEW  YORK. 

huge  hostelries  that  form  so  marked  a  feature  of  New 
York  summer  life.  Across  Sandy  Hook  Bay  are  the 
picturesque  Highlands  of  Neversink,  with  their  trim 
lighthouses,  and  the  white  hotels  nestling  at  their  feet ; 
and  beyond  this  the  bold  heights  of  Staten  Island  close 
in  the  view  to  the  westward.  Down  the  coast  Long 
Branch  is  dimly  seen,  and  along  the  shore  a  railway 
train  is  speeding  swiftly  towards  the  Hook.  Overhead 
the  fish-hawks  wheel  and  scream,watching  for  whatever 
prey  chance  may  bring  within  reach  of  their  skillful 
sw^oop. 

Not  far  distant  from  the  lighthouse  is  "  Ocean  Ceme- 
tery," a  small  enclosure,  dark  with  cedars.  Here, 
under  the  humble  crosses  and  headboards,  sleep  the 
unknown  sailors  whom  the  sea,  merciful  in  its  cruelty, 
cast  ashore  from  storm  and  wreck,  for  kindly  hands  to 
bless  with  Christian  burial.  The  sand  gracs  and 
brambles  grow  thickly  over  the  lowly,  lonely  graves, 
and  the  winds  shriek  and  the  surf  roars  by  them 
through  winter's  cold  and  summer's  heat ;  yet  they 
sleep  well,  the  men  that  lie  below ;  and  from,  time  to 
time  new  tenants  come  to  the  little  graveyard,  craving 
the  rest  that  wind  and  wave  denied  them  in  life. 

Leaving  the  eastern  beach  and  the  sea,  we  cross  the 
peninsula  to  the  west  beach,  the  fort  and  the  point  of 
the  Hook,  guided  by  the  thunder  tones  of  heavy  ord- 
nance, which  grow  louder  as  we  press  onward. 

Before  reaching  the  fort  we  come  to  the  Barracks, 
two  long  lines  of  two-story  houses  separated  by  a 
sandy  street  a  hundred  feet  wide;  in  the  midst  of  which 
are  the  pump  and  the  school-house.  In  the  latter,  a 
school  is  taught,  the  attendants  being  the  children 


INHABITANTS  OF  SANDY  HOOK. 


Ill 


of  the  dwellers  upon  the  Hook.  The  Barracks  were 
built  in  1856-57,  and  were  designed  for  the  accom- 
modation of  the  men  engaged  in  the  work  of  building 
the  fort.  This  force  amounted  to  five  hundred  men  at 
one  period  of  the  late  Civil  War,  when  the  work  was 
pushed  forward  with  great  energy.  They  are  now  ot- 
cupied  by  the  government  employees  connected  with 
the  ordnance  department  and  the  lighthouse,  life-sav- 
ing and  signal  services,  and  by  the  Western  Union 
Telegraph  operators.  These,  with  their  families,  num- 
ber about  fifty  souls,  and  constitute  more  than  one-half 
of  the  population  of  the  Hook.  Immediately  to  the  east 
of  the  Barracks  are  the  old  and  new  quarters  for  offi- 
cials, the  latter  a  handsome  brick  building. 

Beyond  the  Barracks  lies  tiie  fort,  an  unfinished 
structure,  upon  which  the  work  has  been  suspended  for 
many  years.  The  works  occupy  a  commanding  position, 
and  from  them  one  can  obtain  a  fine  view  of  the  ocean 
and  the  Bay.    The  fort,  which  is  at  present  nameless, 
will  probaby  be  called  "  Fort  Clinton."    It  ranks  next 
to  Fortress  Monroe,  and  will  be  the  second  in  size  in 
the  United  States,  covering  with  its  outworks  eighteen 
or  twenty  acres.    It  is  constructed,  as  far  as  it  has  been 
carried,  of  massive  masonry  with  a  granite  facing,  and 
is  intended  to  defend  the  entrance  to  the  Bay  by  the 
Main  Channel,  which  is  half  a  mile  distant  from  it,  and 
by  the  Swash  Channel,  which  is  a  mile  further  to  the 
northward.    The  main  batter)^  or  lower  tier  of  guns,  is 
completed,  but  the  progress  of  the  work  has  been  ar- 
rested for  more  than  half  a  Score  of  years  by  the 
changes  in  modern  artillery,  which  may  yet  require 
many  modifications  of  the  original  plan. 


112 


NEW  YORK. 


Still  nearer  to  the  point  of  the  Hook  is  the  North 
Light.  Close  by  are  the  two  steam  fog  horns,  called  the 
Syrens,  which  in  thick  weather  give  out  terrific  blasts, 
six  seconds  in  duration,  at  intervals  of  forty  seconds. 

On  the  east  beach,  near  the  Syrens,  are  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Ordnance  Department,  a  model  insti- 
tution in  all  its  details.  Here  are  brought  the  heavy 
guns,  and  other  ordnance  introduced  by  the  Govern- 
ment from  time  to  time,  to  be  tested.  The  guns  are 
mounted  on  the  platform  near  the  beach,  and  are  fired 
by  electricity  from  the  office,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  distant. 

Close  by  is  the  station  of  the  Western  Union  Tele- 
graph Company,  a  tov/er  seventy  feet  in  height,  with 
port-holes  commanding  every  point  of  the  compass. 
At  the  top  is  a  small  chamber,  ten  feet  square,  furnished 
with  a  desk,  telegraph  instruments,  chairs,  lamps,  a 
stove,  and  telescopes  and  marine  glasses  of  various 
kinds.  It  is  a  pleasant  and  breezy  place  in  summer, 
but  in  winter  it  is  bleak  beyond  description,  and  the 
stove  is  kept  at  a  red  heat,  to  render  the  room  inhabit- 
able. Here,  year  in  and  year  out,  is  stationed  an  opera- 
tor, whose  business  it  is  to  report  the  approach  of 
incoming  ships  and  steamers.  A  wire  connects  the 
station  directly  with  the  principal  office  of  the  company 
in  New  York,  and  also  with  the  office  of  the  Maritime 
Association  in  Beaver  street.  By  means  of  the  "Inter- 
national Code  of  Signals"  each  vessel,  by  hoisting 
certain  flags,  or  combination  of  flags,  makes  herself 
known  to  the  lookout  in  the  tower,  who  at  once  tele- 
graphs the  news  of  her  arrival  to  New  York.  Vessels 
are  reported  only  during  the  day. 


THE  NEVERSINK  HIGHLANDS. 


113 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  NEVERSINK  HIGHLANDS. 

mruATlON  OF  THE  HIGHLANDS — THE  SHREWSBURY  RIVER — RED  BANK — ORIGIN  OF  THB  WAHTK 

OP  THB  HIGHLANDS  AS  SEEN  FROM  THE  SEA  THE  LIGHT-TOWERS  A  MAGNIFICENT  LIGHT 

— VIEW    FROM  THE    TOWER  THE    PICTURES   IN    THE    LENSES  A   GLIMPSE   OF  FAIRY  LAND. 

Along  the  New  Jersey  coast  runs  a  narrow  strip  of 
sand,  terminating  at  its  northern  end  in  the  peninsula 
of  Sandy  Hook,  w^hich  has  already  been  described.  On 
one  side  of  it  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic  roll  in  whit« 
breakers  upon  the  shore,  and  along  the  other  the 
Shrewsbury  River  flows  peacefully,  and  empties  into 
Sandy  Hook  Bay.  At  its  source  in  the  interior  of  NeAV 
Jersey,  and  as  far  down  its  course  as  the  town  of  Red 
Bank,  it  is  a  mere  streamlet,  wandering  lazily  between 
high  banks  and  through  a  rich  and  finely  wooded 
country.  At  Red  Bank  it  broadens  into  a  wide  estuary, 
and  maintains  this  character  until  its  waters  find  theiii 
resting  place  in  Sandy  Hook  Bay. 

As  the  river  nears  the  bay,  the  left-hand  shore 
increases  in  height,  and  finally  rises  into  a  line  of  bold 
Arerdure-clad  hills  known  as  the  Neversink  Highlands. 
They  extend  along  the  coast  for  several  miles,  com 
manding  fine  views  of  the  Bay  of  New  York  and  tht\ 
ocean.  They  "have  the  post  of  honor  among  the 
American  hills.  They  stand  near  the  principal  portal 
of  the  Continent,  the  first  land  to  greet  the  curious  eye 
of  the  stranger  and  to  cheer  the  heart  of  the  return- 
ing wanderer.    The  beauty  of  these  wooded  heights, 

the  charming  villas  that  stud  their  sides,  the  grace  of 
to 


114 


NEW  YORK. 


their  undulating  lines,  give  to  the  traveler  prompt 
assurance  that  the  country  he  visits  is  not  only  blessed 
with  rare  natural  beauty,  but  that  art  and  culture  have 
suitably  adorned  it.  The  delight  with  which  the  wearied 
ocean  voyager  greets  the  shores  that  first  rise  upon  the 
horizon  has  often  been  described;  but  these 
shores  have  a  rare  sylvan  beauty;  that  opens  hour  by 
hour  as  the  vessel  draws  near.  When,  instead  of 
frowninor  rocks  or  barren  sands,  he  beholds  noble  hills 
clothed  to  their  brows  with  green  forests,  fields,  and 
meadows  basking  with  summer  beauty  in  the  sun,  cot- 
tages nestling  amid  shrubbery,  and  spires  lifting  above 
clustering  tree  tops,  the  picture  possesses  a  charm 
which  only  he  who  first  beholds  it  can  realize.  It  is 
such  a  green  paradise  that  the  Neversink  Hills  offers 
to  the  gaze  of  every  ocean  wanderer  who  enters  the 
harbor  of  New  York." 

The  name  of  the  Highlands  is  variously  spelled.  It 
is  written  sometimes  Navasink,  again  Navisink,  at  other 
times  Nevisink,  and  finally  as  Neversink.  The  correct 
method  can  be  determined  only  by  a  knowledge  of  its 
origin,  and  of  this  there  appears  to  be  some  doubt. 
Navasink  is  supposed  to  be  an  Indian  word,  meaning 
fishing  place  ;  and,  of  course,  applied  to  the  river  ;  but 
others  claim  that  this  is  but  a  common  instance  of  a  natural 
desire  to  find  an  aboriginal  verb  for  our  nomenclature, 
and  that  the  term  is  really  Neversink,  having  been  be- 
stowed  by  sailors,  as  expressive  of  the  long  time  these 
hills  remain  in  view  to  the  outward  voyager.  There  is 
more  romance  in  the  Indian  term,  buX,  so  far,  the  weight 
of  authority  does  not  appear  to  be  in  its  favor." 

However  this  may  be,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 


HIGHLANDS  LIGHTHOUSES.  115 

Highlands  form  one  of  the  most  inferesting,  as  well  as 
one  of  the  pleasant  features  of  New  York  Bay.  They  are 
easily  reached  from  the  city,  as  the  Red  Bank  boat  will 
land  the  visitor  at  the  foot  of  Beacon  Hill,  near  the 
mouth  of  the  river.  Once  ashore,  we  follow  the  path- 
way up  the  steep  bluff,  and  finally  reach  the  twin  light- 
houses that  crown  its  summit.  These  lighthouses 
form  the  chief  feature  in  any  view  of  the  hills,  and  are 
very  picturesque,  from  whatever  point  seen.  The  two 
towers  stand  wide  apart  from  each  other,  on  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  but  are  connected  by  a  long  structure,  much 
lower  in  height,  and  at  a  point  midway  between  the 
towers  rises  a  massive  castellated  gateway,  with  ar& 
arched  entrance,  from  which  floats  the  flae  of  the  Re- 
public.  One  of  the  towers  is  square,  and  rises  to  a 
considerable  height.  It  contains  the  finest  and  most 
powerful  light  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Its  rays  can  be 
easily  seen  at  a  distance  of  thirty-five  miles,  or  as  far 
as  the  height  of  the  tower  lifts  the  horizon.  It  is  the 
first  indication  of  land  seen  by  vessels  approaching  the 
Bay  at  night.  The  light  is  of  French  construction,  and 
secured  the  prize  at  one  of  the  great  International  Ex- 
hibitions of  France.  It  was  afterwards  purchased  by 
the  United  States,  for  the  sum  of  thirty  thousand  dol- 
lars. The  light  in  the  second  tower  is  a  duplicate  of 
this  one  in  construction,  but  is  not  so  powerful.  The 
two  lighthouses  constitute  one  station,  and  are  kept  in 
the  most  perfect  order. 

Through  the  courtesy  of  the  keeper  we  are  permit- 
ted to  ascend  to  the  lantern  of  the  principal  tower,  and 
enjoy  the  superb  view  which  it  commands.  To  the 
eastward  is  the  blue  Atlantic,  rolling  lazily  with  its 


116  NEW  YORK.  • 

long,  dreamy  heave,  for  the  day  is  bright  and  the  wind 
is  soft  and  fair.  Clouds  of  white  canvas  glitter  and 
nod  in  the  sunlight,  as  scores  of  vessels,  outward  and 
inward  bound,  take  their  way  over  the  waves.  There 
is  a  large  steamer  just  passing  out  to  sea,  plunging 
steadily  into  the  blue  water,  and  leaving  a  long,  black 
trail  of  smoke  behind.  How  many  hearts  beat  hope- 
fully in  that  black  shell,  soon  to  be  to  us  a  mere  speck 
upon  the  water ;  and  how  many  eyes  are  turned  in 
farewell  glances  to  the  tower  from  which  we  look 
down.  How  lovingly  they  will  watch  it  until  it  sinks 
>lown  and  fades  away  on  the  dim  horizon.  We  wish 
God-speed  and  a  safe  voyage  to  the  gallant  vessel, 
whose  long  way  across  the  deep  has  begun  so  happily. 
Directly  below  us  the  peaceful  Shrewsbury  flows 
'gently,  its  bright  bosom  dotted  with  many  smaller 
craft ;  and  amid  the  trees  along  the  river  shore  we  can 
see  the  hotels  and  the  white  cottages  of  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Highlands,  one  of  the  most  popular  summer 
resorts  in  the  vicinity  of  the  metropolis.  Sandy  Hook, 
with  its  tall  lighthouse  and  the  grim  outline  of  the 
imfinished  fort,  are  seen  to  the  northward,  seeming 
**trangely  near  in  this  bright  light  of  a  summer  after- 
noon ;  and  within  the  cove  are  a  score  of  vessels  at 
anchor.  Across  the  bay  are  Coney  Island  and  Rock- 
away,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  outer  bay  seem  to  float 
the  substantial  structures  of  the  Quarantine.  To  the 
westward  are  the  bold  heights  of  Staten  Island,  and  at 
the  Narrows  we  can  see  the  national  ensign  flapping 
from  the  tall  flagstaff  at  Fort  Richmond.  The  bay  is 
full  of  shipping,  some  going  and  some  coming,  and 
several  large  excursion  steamers  are  darting  swiftly 


THE  LANTERN. 


117 


among  them,  laden  with  hundreds  of  the  dwellers  in 
the  great  city,  who  are  seeking  rest  and  recreation  in 
the  cool  sea  breeze  on  this  warm  afternoon. 

Turning  from  this  wonderful  view  we  examine  the 
lantern,  which  the  genial  light-keeper  explains  to  us. 
As  he  raises  the  curtain  that  is  spread  over  the  lenses 
by  day,  we  are  startled  at  the  picture  which  is  reflected 
in  the  polished  surface.  The  sky,  the  sea,  the  bay, 
every  object  within  sight,  is  reproduced  in  excellent 
imitation  upon  the  convex  central  crystal,  and  with  a 
faithfulness  and  delicacy  which  the  most  gifted  artist 
would  despair  of  accomplishing.  How  wonderful  the 
picture  is,  so  small  and  yet  so  true,  and  giving  out  all 
the  rare  tints  and  shades  of  nature  itself.  It  is  like  a 
scene  of  fairy  land,  and  grows  more  beautiful  as  we 
continue  to  gaze  upon  it. 

The  keeper  explains  to  us  the  construction  and 
mode  of  working  the  light.  We  examine  the  deli- 
cate and  costly  machinery  by  which  the  bright  flashes 
are  sent  far  over  the  sea,  and  easily  imagine  how 
eagerly  the  homeward-bound  seaman  must  watch  for 
them  as  they  shine  out  over  the  dark  waves,  telling 
him  that  port  and  rest  are  at  hand.  Then,  as  the  after- 
noon is  declining,  we  descend  the  tower  and  take  our 
way  down  the  hill  back  to  the  pleasant  hotel  at  High- 
lands, to  wait  for  the  morning  boat  that  is  to  convey 
us  back  to  the  city.  When  the  night  comes  on  we 
stroll  out  once  more  and  watch  the  bright  gleams  as 
they  dart  out  from  the  tall  towers  on  the  hill,  and  shine 
far  over  the  waves,  signals  of  hope  and  safety. 


118 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MUNICIPAL  GOVERNMENT. 

ORGANIZATION  OP  THE  CITY  GOVERNMENT — THE  MAYOR  AND  BOARD  OF  ALDERMEN — THB  COIC> 
MISSIONERS— DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  VARIOUS  MUNICIPAL  DEPARTMENTS— POWERS  OF  OFFI- 
CIALS— THE  COURTS — POLICE  JUSTICES — THE  MEN  BY  WHOM  NEW  YORK  IS  GOVERNED — RESPON. 

SIBILITV  OF  THE  BETTER  CLASSES  FROM  THE  GROG  SHOP  TO  CIVIL  POWER — WHO  THB  LBAD- 

ERS  ARE  THE  "  BOSS  "  THE  RING  HOW  BOSS  TWEED  MAINTAINED  HIS  POWER  SPASMODIC 

EFFORTS  AT  REFORM — MULHOOLYISM  IN  NEW  YORK — AN  INSIDE  VIEW  OF  MUNICIPAL  POLITICS 

 THE  SLAVE  OF  THE  RING  LOOKING  OUT  FOR  THE  "  BOYS  "  THE  INTERESTS  OF  THB  CITY 

NEGLECTED  THE  POPULAR  WILL  DEFIED  BY  THE  RING. 

The  City  of  New  York  is  governed  by  a  Mayor  and 
a  Board  of  twenty- two  Aldermen,  with  various.  Boards 
of  Commissioners.  It  is  divided  into  twenty-four 
wards  and  557  election  districts,  and  constitutes  the 
First  Judicial  District  of  the  State.  It  sends  5  Senators 
and  21  Assemblymen  to  the  State  Legislature,  and  7 
Representatives  to  Congress.  The  Mayor  is  elected 
by  the  vote  of  the  people  for  a  term  of  two  years,  and 
receives  a  salary  of  $12,000  per  annum.  The  Alder- 
men are  chosen  annually  by  the  popular  vote,  and 
receive  each  an  annual  salary  of  $4000,  except  the 
President  of  the  Board,  who  is  paid  $5000.  "Six  are 
elected  by  the  voters  of  the  city  at  large  (no  one  being 
permitted  to  vote  for  more  than  four  candidates),  and 
three  from  each  of  the  four  lower  Senate  districts  (no 
one  being  permitted  to  vote  for  more  than  two).  The 
upper  Senate  district  with  the  23d  and  24th  wards  elects 
four  Aldermen  (no  one  being  permitted  Co  vote  for 
more  than  three)." 

The  Mayor  appoints  'the  Commissioners  and  heads 
of  departments,  with  the  consent  of  the  Board  of  Alder- 


BOARDS  OF  FINANCE  AND  TAXES. 


119 


men.  These  hold  office  for  periods  varying  from  three 
to  six  years,  and  receive  salaries  ranging  from  $3000 
to  $15,000  a  year. 

The  principal  department  under  the  City  Govern- 
ment is  that  of  Fi7iance.  It  has  charge  of  all  the  fiscal 
affairs  of  the  corporation,  and  is  presided  over  by  the 
Comptroller,  who  receives  a  salary  of  $10,000  per 
annum,  and  occupies  the  most  important  position,  from 
a  political  point  of  view,  in  the  city.  He  is  generally 
the  "Boss"  of  New  York  politics,  and  wields  his  power 
■  in  a  despotic  manner.  Next  in  importance  is  the  City 
Chamberlain  or  Treasurer.  He  is  appointed  by  the 
Mayor,  and  is  confirmed  by  the  Board  of  Aldermen. 
He  receives  a  salary  of  $30,000,  but  out  of  this  has  to 
•pay  his  office  expenses,  clerk  hire,  etc. 

The  Department  of  Taxes  and  Assessments  ranks 
next  in  importance.  It  consists  of  three  Commis- 
sioners, appointed  by  the  Mayor  and  confirmed  by  the 
Board  of  Aldermen.  They  hold  office  for  six  years, 
and  one  of  them  is  President  of  the  Board.  The 
President  receives  $6500  a  year;  the"  others  $5000. 
.This  Board  fixes  the  rate  of  taxation  upon  real  and 
'personal  property,  and  collects  the  taxes  due  the  city. 
The  Mayor,  Comptroller,  President  of  the  Board  of 
Aldermen,  and  President  of  the  Department  of  Taxes, 
constitute  a  Board  of  Apportionment,  which  fixes  the 
amount  to  be  raised  each  year  by  taxation.  This  Board 
also  decides  how  much  shall  be  spent  by  the  City  Gov- 
ernment, and  all  appropriations  for  any  branch  of  that 
government  must  receive  its  approval.  It  is  thus  really 
in  possession  of  powers  superior  to  those  of  the  Board 
of  Aldermen,  and  constitutes  a  check  upon  that  body. 


120 


NEW  YORK. 


The  President  of  the  Board  of  Taxes  and  two  others^, 
appointed  by  the  Mayor,  are  Commissioners  of 
Accounts,  whose  duty  it  is  to  examine  the  accounts 
and  expenditures  of  the  various  branches  of  thie  City 
Government.  They  are  removable  at  the  pleasure  of 
the  Mayor. 

The  Department  of  Public  Works  is  presided  over 
by  a  Commissioner,  appointed  by  the  Mayor  and  con- 
firmed by  the  Board  of  Aldermen  for  a  term  of  four 
years.  He  receives  an  annual  salary  of  $10,000.  The 
Department  has  charge  of  the  Public  Buildings,  streets, 
sewers,  water,  gas,  etc.,  and  expends  annually  about 
$1,600,000. 

The  Department  of  Buildings  is  in  charge  of  a  super- 
intendent, appointed  by  the  Mayor  and  confirmed  by 
the  Board  of  Aldermen.  He  holds  offtce  for  six  years, 
and  receives  an  annual  salary  of  $6500.  This  department 
supervises  the  construction  of  new  buildings,  and  ad- 
ditions to  old  ones  within  the  city  limits.  All  plans  for 
new  buildings,  or  alterations  of  old  ones,  must  receive 
its  approval.  The  department  also  has  power  to  inspect 
all  buildings  in  rhe  city  with  regard  to  their  safety^ 
and  to  require  all  unsafe  structures  to  be  pulled  down 
.or  properly  repaired;  and  to  compel  owners  of  build- 
ings to  provide  the  proper  fire  escapes. 

The  Law  Department  has  charge  of  all  the  law  busi- 
ness  of  the  city  of  New  York.  Its  head  is  the  Corpora- 
tion Counsel,  who  is  appointed  by  the  Mayor  and  con- 
firmed by  the  Board  of  Aldermen,  for  a  period  of  four 
years.  He  receives  a  salary  of  $15,000  per  annum. 
His  principal  subordinates  are  the  Corporation  Attor- 
ney, who  receives  $6000  a  year ;  and  the  Public  Ad- 


THE  BOARD  OF  HEALTH. 


121 


ministrator,  with  a  salary  of  ^5000.  The  first  has 
charge  of  the  prosecution  of  violators  of  city  ordi- 
nances, etc. ;  the  second  administers  upon  the  estates  of 
persons  who  die  intestate,  and  the  estates  of  foreigners 
dying  in  New  York. 

The  Health  Department,  or  "  Board  of  Health,"  as 
it  is  better  known,  consists  of  the  President  of  the 
Board  of  Police,  the  Health  Officer  of  the  Port  (who 
is  a  State,  not  a  City  Official),  and  two  Commis- 
sioners, one  of  whom  must  have  been  for  five  years 
a  practicing  physician.  The  last  two  are  appointed  by 
the  Mayor,  and  are  confirmed  by  the  Board  of  Alder- 
men, for  a  period  of  six  years.  The  Cornmissioner^ 
who  is  not  a  physician,  is  the  President  of  the  Board. 
The  Board  has  charge  of  all  matters  relating  to  the  health 
and  sanitary  condition  of  the  city.  It  is  divided  into  two 
bureaux  :  the  sanitary  bureau,  the  head  of  which  is  the 
Sanitary  Superintendent,  with  a  salary  of  $4800  per 
annum,  and  the  bureau  of  records,  over  which  is  the 
Register  of  Records,  with  a  salary  of  ^2700  a  year. 
The  first  bureau  prepares  the  sanitary  regulations  of 
the  city,  and  enforces  them  ;  the  second  records  the 
births,  deaths  and  marriages  occurring  within  the  city 
limits.  It  is  sometimes  called  the  Bureau  of  Vital 
Statistics.  It  gives  all  permits  for  burials  or  removals 
of  bodies  from  the  city. 

The  Department  of  Police  will  be  referred  to  in  an* 
other  chapter. 

The  Excise  Department  consists  of  three  commis- 
sioners, appointed  by  the  mayor,  and  confirmed  by  the 
Board  of  Aldermen,  for  a  term  of  years.  It  receives 
all  applications  for  licenses  to  sell  spirituous  or  malt 


122 


NEW  YORK. 


liquors  within  the  limits  of  the  corporation ;  decides 
whether  the  appHcant  is  a  proper  person  to  sell  liquor, 
and  his  establishment  a  fit  place  to  be  licensed,  and 
gives  the  license  if  the  decision  is  favorable.  Licenses 
are  granted  for  one  year  only,  and  must  be  renewed 
annually. 

"The  courts  of  general  jurisdiction  in  civil  matters, 
are  the  Supreme  Court  for  the  First  District,  with  five 
justices  (salary  $  1 7,500),  and  the  Superior  Court  and 
Court  of  Common  Pleas,  with  six  judges  each  (salary 
$15,000).  The  justices  and  judges  are  elected  for  a 
term  of  fourteen  years.  The  Surrogate,  Recorder  arid 
City  Judge  (salary  $1 5,000  each),  are  elected  for  six 
years.  ^  The  superior  criminal  courts  are  the  Oyer  and 
Terminer,  held  by  a  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  and 
the  General  Sessions,  held  by  the  Recorder  or  City 
Judge.  The  Marine  Court  has  civil  jurisdiction  to  the 
amount  of  $1000,  and  consists  of  six  judges  (salary 
$10,000),  elected  for  six  years.  For  purposes  of  dis- 
trict courts,  which  have  civil  jurisdiction  to  the  amount 
of  $250,  the  city  is  divided  into  ten  judicial  districts,  in 
each  of  which  a  justice  (salary  $8000)  is  elected  for  a 
term  of  six  years.  There  are  eleven  police  justices 
(salary  $8000),  appointed  by  the  Mayor,  with  the  con- 
sent of  the  Board  of  Aldermen,  for  a  term  of  ten  years, 
each  of  whom  has  power  to  hold  a  police  court  in 
either  of  the  six  police-court  districts.  Two  police  jus- 
tices hold  the  Court  of  Special  Sessions,  with  power  to 
try  cases  of  misdemeanor.  The  Sheriff,  County  Clerk, 
District  Attorney  and  Register,  are  the  principal  other 
officials." 

Such  is  the  machinery  by  which  the  great  American 

t 


FROM  THE  SLUMS  TO  CIVIL  POWER.  123 


metropolis  is  governed.  Were  it  always  possible  to 
secure  the  best  and  most  intelligent  men  of  the  city  for 
the  offices  included  within  this  vast  system,  the  ar- 
rangement would  certainly  achieve  the  results  for  which 
it  was  designed — the  good  government  of  the  city  and 
the  impartial  administration  of  justice.  But  apart  from 
the  judges  of  the  higher  coui*ts,  who  are  men  of  great 
ability  and  unquestioned  integrity,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  the  government  of  New  York  is  not  in  the  hands 
of  either  its  best  or  its  most  thoroughly  representative 
citizens.  The  majorit)^  of  the  office-holders  of  the  great 
city  are  men  whom  a  reputable  citizen  would  not  ask 
into  his  house.  Under  the  shadows  of  the  temples  of 
justice,  Mulhoolyism  flourishes  in  all  its  glory.  Go  to 
the  City  Hall,  or  to  any  of  the  various  departments, 
and  you  will  find  the  majority  of  the  persons  present 
in  official  capacity,  loud-voiced,  big-handed,  red-faced, 
sinister-eyed  men,  with  coarse  features,  dull  expres- 
sions, heavily-dyed  moustaches,  and  all  bearing  in  their 
personal  appearance  unmistakable  evidences  that  they 
have  risen  from  the  slums  to  their  present  position  by 
the  power — not  of  intellect  or  ability,  but  of  "  politics." 

The  cause  of  this  is  not  hard  to  find.  The  better 
class  of  New  Yorkers  have  a  holy  horror  of  politics, 
and  all  things  pertaining  thereunto.  They  will  not  at- 
tend the  primary  meetings  or  the  nominating  conven- 
tions, and,  in  too  many  instances,  will  not  even  vote. 
Thus  the  wealth  and  intelligence,  the  two  conservative 
classes  of  the  city,  leave  the  control  of  all  the  vast  ma- 
chinery we  have  described,  with  all  the  great  and  va- 
ried interests  dependent  upon  it,  in  the  hands  of  pro* 
fessional  politicians  and  their  followers. 


124 


NEW  YORK. 


This  being  the  case,  it  becomes  interesting  to  ask. 
who  are  the  professional  poHticians,  and  from  whom  do 
they  derive  their  support  ? 

The  professional  politician  is  generally  an  Irishman, 
or  of  Irish  descent.  The  immense  Irish  population  of 
New  York,  which  constitutes  at  least  one-fifth  of  the 
total  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  city,  comprises 
the  ruhng  element  in  metropolitan  politics.  It  is  also 
the  most  ignorant,  as  well  as  the  most  reckless  class 
in  the  great  city.  It  is  blindly  devoted  to  its  leaders, 
and  obeys  their  orders  implicitly,  and  without  care  of 
consequences.  It  controls  the  primary  meetings,  the 
ward  conventions,  and  even  the  greater  political  bodies 
by  which  the  electoral  machinery  of  the  city  is  gov- 
erned. Its  leaders  are  men  who  have  risen  from  the 
grogshop,  by  the  exercise  of  bribery  and  sheer  knav- 
ery. Its  headquarters  are  the  numerous  bar-rooms 
with  which  the  city  abounds;  and  votes  are  bought  and 
sold;  incompetent  men  are  put  in  nomination  and 
elected,  and  the  whole  system  of  free  government  in 
municipal  affairs  is  thus  placed  at  the  mercy  of  a  few 
leaders,  who  are  in  their  turn  subject  to  the  control  of 
a  central  authority,  who  is  commonly  known  as  "  the 
Boss." 

The  author  of  that  inimitable  satire  upon  American 
politics,  "  Solid  for  Mulhooly,"  thus  sums  up  the  system: 

"  When  one  man  owns  and  dominates  four  wards  or 
counties,  he  becomes  a  Leader.  Half  a  dozen  such 
Leaders  constitute  what  is  called  a  Ring.  When  one 
Leader  is  powerful  enough  to  bring  three  or  four  such 
Leaders  under  his  yoke,  he  becomes  a  Boss,  and  a 
Boss  wields  a  power  as  absolute,  while  it  lasts,  as  that 


MULHOOLYISM  IN  NEW  YORK. 


125 


which  George  III  wielded  over  the  thirteen.,  colonies, 
until  they  ungratefully  rebelled  against  him  and  com- 
menced to  murder  his  soldiers  and  take  away  their  mus- 
kets and  bayonets.  The  Leaders,  the  Ring,  and  the 
Boss  combined,  constitute  the  modern  system  of  Ameri- 
can politics,  which  has  been  found  to  work  so  success- 
fully in  all  large  cities,  especially  in  those  which  are  for- 
tunate enough  to  have  secured  a  working  majority  of 
Leaders  from  Ireland.  It  has  also  been  tried  with  en- 
couraging results  in  several  of  the  oldest  and  largest 
States  of  the  Union;  and  even  with  all  the  disadvan- 
tages of  American  birth  and  prejudices,  some  men 
have  been  found  who  could  rule  their  own  States,  with 
a  fair  measure  of  success,  for  many  years,  by  combin- 
ing in  themselves,  at  once,  all  the  functions  of  the  Lead- 
ers, the  Ring,  and  the  Boss." 

It  was  such  a  system  as  this  that  enabled  Boss 
Tweed  and  his  confederates  to  hold  the  greatest  city 
of  the  Union  in  their  grasp  for  so  many  years,  and  to 
wring  from  the  tax  payers  the  enormous  sums  by  which 
they  built  up  their  immense  fortunes.  Indignant  out- 
cries were  raised  from  time  to  time  by  the  Press,  but 
the  Boss  found  it  easy  in  some  cases  to  buy  up  danger- 
ous journals,  and  where  this  could  not  be  done,  he  felt 
safe  in  the  indifference  of  the  better  class  of  voters,  and 
above  all  in  the  strength  of  the  solid  Irish  vote,  upon 
which  he  could  always  rely.  Since  his  downfall  we  have 
seen  another  Boss  upheld  by  the  same  power,  and  sq 
conscious  of  its  support  as  to  be  able  even  to  defy  the 
better  elements  of  his  own  party,  and  strong  enougk 
to  defeat  that  party  because  it  had  dared  to  oppose 
him  and  his  schemes.    True,  he  is  not  tainted  with  the 


126 


NEW  YORK. 


corruption  of  Boss  Tweed,  but  his  strength  in  political 
affairs  is  even  greater;  and  this  not  because  of  his  over- 
intellectual  strength,  or  his  lofty  patriotism,  but  because 
of  his  undisputed  control  of  the  Irish  vote. 

Strong  as  is  the  Irish  vote,  it  is  made  stronger  by  the 
accession  of  a  large  class  of  Americans  and  voters  of 
other  nationalities,  who  are  drawn  into  alliance  with  it 
by  the  hope  of  sharing  the  plunder  which  falls  into 
the  hands  of  the  successful  party.  "  The  Boss,"  who- 
ever he  may  be,  finds  these  as  devoted  adherents  as 
the  Irish,  and  rewards  them  accordingly,  only  keeping 
the  most  profitable  places  for  the  Irish.  Take  the  salary 
list  of  the  city  offices,  and  read  the  names  opposite 
each  office,  and  you  will  find  nine  out  of  ten  pure  Mile- 
sian. Go  into  the  public  offices,  and  you  will  hear  the 
**rich  Irish  brogue*'  as  purely  and  as  plentifully  as 
though  you  were  in  the  Green  Island  itself.  These  are 
men  who  form  the  chairmen  of  the  city,  ward,  and  pre- 
cinct committees;  who  dominate  the  conventions,  and 
name  and  secure  the  election  of  candidates  of  their 
choice. 

To  win  success  in  any  legitimate  pursuit  in  New 
York  requires  the  exercise  of  every  power  of  intellect, 
shrewdness,  industry,  and  perseverance.  The  whole 
man  is  brought  out  and  developed  to  the  full.  Not  so 
in  politics.  To  win  success  in  this  line  of  life  requires 
only  an  absence  of  principle,  devotion  to  the  Boss,  and 
a  careful  cultivation  of  the  Irish  vote.  It  was  by  the 
exercise  of  these  qualities  that  a  certain  well  known 
ex-prize  fighter  and  gambler  mounted  to  a  seat  in  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States,  where  for  four  years 
he  disgraced  that  august  body  by  his  presence. 


AN  INSIDE  VIEW  OF  MUNICIPAL  POLITICS.  127 


True  it  is,  that  once  in  a  long  while  the  better  class 
of  citizens,  driven  to  desperation'  by  the  burdens  laid 
upon  them,  arouse  from  their  indifference,  and  combine 
in  a  great  movement  for  reform.  Sharp  and  vigorous 
work  is  done  for  a  while,  and  the  election  results  in  the 
overthrow  of  the  Ring  and  the  defeat  of  the  Irish  vote. 
This  done,  the  good  citizens  sink  back  into  their  form.er 
indifference,  and  leave  political  affairs  to  take  care  of 
themselves.  Then  matters  fall  back  into  their  old  chan- 
nels; a  new  Ring  is  formed,  a  new  Boss  is  created,  or 
rather  creates  himself,  the  Irish  vote  reasserts  itself,  and 
a  new  era  of  corruption  opens. 

The  author  we  have  before  quoted,  in  describing  the 
experience  of  Mr.  Michael  Mulhooly  in  his  successful 
rise  in  political  life,  thus  records  the  results  of  that 
Honorable  Gentleman's  observations  of  the  system  as 
applied  to  municipal  politics,  and  the  observations, 
though  made  in  another  city,  apply  with  equal  force  to 
the  New  York  system: — 

"He  saw  that  the  party  organization  was  composed 
primarily  of  Precinct  Committees,  Ward  Committees, 
and  the  City  Committee,  and  secondarily  of  Conventions 
to  place  in  nomination  candidates  for  various  offices  to 
be  chosen  at  elections  held  by  the  people;  and  that  all 
tliese  various  members  or  parts  of  the  organization 
were  provided  for  and  governed  by  a  system  of  laws 
called  Party  Rules,  which  operated  like  the  Constitu- 
tion and  laws  of  a  great  Commonwealth.  He  saw  that 
while  this  perfect  party  organization  was  ostensibly 
created  to  insure  the  success  of  the  party,  and  thereby 
the  good  of  the  people,  it  had  been  so  ingeniously 
devised  as  to  compel  obedience  on  the  part  of  the 


128 


NEW  YORK. 


great  body  of  voters,  while  it  placed  the  entire  control 
of  the  whole  machinery  in  a  central  head  or  master 
spirit,  composed  of  one  man,  or  two  men,  or  half  a 
dozen  men,  according  to  circumstances ;  or  in  other 
words,  of  the  leaders,  the  Ring,  and  the  Boss.  He 
saw  also,  that  however  the  party  rules  might  be  modi- 
fied from  time  to  time,  in  the  apparent  interest  of  the 
great  body  of  voters,  in  their  practical  operation,  they 
would  still  be  found  to  contribute  only  toward  strength- 
ening the  power  of  those  who,  by  the  natural  tendency 
of  party  organization  toward  centralization  of  power, 
might,  from  time  to  time,  constitute  the  Leaders,  the 
Ring,  and  the  Boss. 

"He  saw  that  by  this  system  the  Leaders,  the  Ring, 
and  the  Boss  practically  nominated  all  candidates,  and 
as — where  the  party  is  largely  in  the  majority,  and  the 
voters  can  be  kept  in  the  traces — a  nomination  is  equiva- 
lent to  an  election,  they,  therefore,  practically  appointed 
all  public  officers,  under  the  form  of  an  election  by  the 
people  *  *  *  He  saw  that  one  who  would  enter 
the  lists  as  a  candidate  must  give  satisfactory  proofs 
that  he  had  already  rendered  valuable  services  to 
them;  that  no  other  man  could  fill  the  place  with  such 
advantage  to  them  ;  and  that  he  would  at  all  times,  and 
under  all  circumstances,  implicitly  obey  their  orders, 
irrespective  of  consequences,  legal,  moral,  social,  or 
political.  He  saw  that  if,  for  instance,  one  desired  to 
be  a  candidate  for  judicial  honors,  he  must  be  able  to 
give  undoubted  assurances,  either  by  his  past  record, 
or  by  some  satisfactory  pledges,  that  he  would  hold  his 
office  as  of  their  gift,  and  might  be  at  all  times  safely 
and  privately  conferred  with  by  them,  so  as  to  be 


OPERATION  OF  RING-RULE. 


129 


instructed  how  to  further  their  interests  in  matters  fall- 
ing within  the  scope  of  his  judicial  functions. 

He  soon  saw  that  this  whole  system  was  founded 
on  (a)  the  tendency  of  every  voter  to  work  in  the 
traces,  and  vote  for  any  man  ostensibly  nominated 
by  the  party;  (d)  the  strict  enforcement  of  part}^ 
rules  ;  and  (c)  the  judicious  distribution  of  the 
regularly-salaried  offices  in  the  various  departments 
of  the  city  government  *  * ;  the  various  municipal, 
State,  and  national  offices  to  which  only  perquisites 
and  aliunde  profits  are  attached ;  the  various  appoint- 
ments which  may  be,  from  time  to  time,  controlled  in 
the  various  State  and  national  offices  *  *  *  * 
and  of  the  various  contracts  for  public  work,  involving 
the  outlay  of  millions  of  dollars,  given  to  contractors 
who  are  willing  not  only  to  rebate,  but  also  to  prop- 
erly control,  at  all  times,  the  thousands  of  workmen 
whom  they  employ  in  the  public  service    *    *    *  * 

"  His  examination,  though  imperfect,  had  been  car- 
ried far  enough  to  show  him  these  important  results : 

I .  That  nearly  every  member  of  the  City  Com- 
mittees, and  of  the  various  Ward  Committees,  held  a 
lucrative  position  by  the  appointment  of  some  Leader, 
whose  orders  he  was  compelled  to  obey. 

"  2.  That  as  these  committees  fix  the  times  and 
places  for  holding  conventions,  select  the  temporary 
chairmen  to  organize  them,  and  decide  all  disputes  and 
appeals,  they  practically  control  all  conventions. 

"  3.  That  every  one  of  these  department 
employees  is  presumed  to  be  able  to  go  to  a  conven- 
tion when  ordered  to  do  so,  or  to  send  in  his  place  a 
person  who  will  obey  orders ;  and  that  these  ap- 


130 


NEW  YORK. 


pointees,  as  well  as  the  thousands  of  others  in  other 
offices  and  employments,  are  so  distributed  through 
the  different  wards  as  to  be  able,  when  acting  in  con- 
cert, to  control  a  large  majority  of  all  the  wards. 

"4.  That  the  Leaders  had,  in  one  way  or  another, 
obtained  control  of  one  department  of  the  city  govern- 
ment after  another,  until  more  than  four-fifths  of  all 
the  men  employed  directly  and  indirectly  in  the  public 
service,  and  paid  by  the  public  money,  were  under 
their  immediate  orders. 

"5.  That  the  Leaders  were  themselves  subject-to  the 
orders  of  the  Boss,  who  had  made  most  of  them,  and 
without  whose  favor  they  would  be  comparatively 
powerless. 

"6  That  the  Boss  was  the  Great  Supreme 
Thus  the  reader  will  see  that  it  is  a  very  simple  sys- 
tem after  all.  The  Boss  names  the  candidate  he  wishes 
elected  to  some  city  office,  and  the  ward  leaders  act  as 
his  lieutenants  in  the  execution  of  his  orders.  The  man 
so  chosen  is  one  upon  whom  absolute  reliance  can  be 
placed,  to  stand  by  the  party  under  any  and  all  circum- 
r>tances,  and  to  yield  implicit  obedience  to  the  orders 
e:)f  the  Boss.  Intellectual  qualifications  are  not  sought 
after,  high  moral  character  and  fidelity  to  the  interests 
of  the  city  are  not  desired.  The  candidate  must  be  true 
to  the  party,  and  obedient  to  the  Boss.  The  primary 
meetings,  under  the  orders  of  the  Leaders,  send  dele- 
gates to  the  Convention  pledged  to  vote  for  the  candi- 
date named  by  the  Boss.  The  Convention  is  held,  the 
candidate  is  nominated,  and  is  announced  to  the  world 
as  the  choice  of  the  party,  when  in  reality  he  is  the 

*  "Solid  for  Mulhooly."  G.  W.  Carleton  &  Co.  New  York.  pp.  51-54;  57-58. 


* 

POLITICAL  CORRUPTION. 


131 


choice  of  one  man,  the  Boss.  The  election  is  held,  the 
candidate  is  triumphantly  returned  by  the  Irish  vote, 
or,  if  there  are  not  legal  votes  enough  to  elect  him,  the 
returns  are  skillfully  manipulated,  and  he  secures  his 
certificate  of  election.  It  is  all  very  simple;  the  choice 
of  the  Boss  once  made,  the  Irish  vote  does  the  rest, 
and  does  it  thoroughly. 

Once  elected,  the  candidate  is  the  slave  of  the  Boss 
and  the  Leaders.  It  is  useless  to  think  of  independ- 
ence. He  has  sold  himself,  body  and  soul,  to  his 
poHtical  masters,  and  henceforth  must  think  as  the)r 
think,  and  act  as  they  dictate.  Now  what  is  expected 
of  him  is  simply  this:  that  he  shall  use  his  officiat 
power  to  further  the  passage  of  all  and  any  scheme.^ 
the  Boss  or  the  Leaders  may  desire  to  succeed, 
whether  he  knows  them  to  be  corrupt  or  not.  As  a 
rule  he  does  know  them  to  be  corrupt,  but  he  must 
vote  for  them.  Such  schemes  are  carried  through  by 
bribery,  and  the  Boss  does  not  object  to  his  faithful 
servant  receiving  his  share  of  the  spoils,  and  growing 
rich  thereby.  That  is  the  reward  held  out  to  him  at  thi^ 
beginning.  Measures  in  which  the  Boss  and  the  Lead  - 
ers  are  interested  become  very  numerous,  but  each  and 
all  receive  his  vote,  and  little  by  little  the  aliunde  profitii 
of  the  legislator  swell  to  greater  proportions,  and 
finally  he  grows  rich,  becomes  a  Leader  in  his  turn, 
and  secretly  cherishes  the  hope  of  one  day  becoming 
Boss.  Meanwhile  the  trufe  interests  of  the  city  suffer, 
the  property  holders  are  burdened  with  useless  and 
unjust  taxes.  The  ''City  Fathers"  have  no  time  to 
attend  to  such  matters;  they  are  too  busily  engaged  ir>' 
looking  after  the  interests  of  the  Boss  and  the  Leaders^ 


132 


NEW  YORK. 


and  accumulating  fortunes  for  themselves.  Then  they 
must  look  out  for  the  interests  of  "The  Boys,"  as  the 
voters  who  supported  them  are  affectionately  termed. 
Offices  must  be  provided  for  them — without  regard  to 
their  competency  to  fill  them — the  bar  rooms  in  their 
respective  districts  or  wards  must  be  looked  after,  and 
the  proper  amount  of  money  expended  at  each  in 
treating  "The  Boys"  who  cannot  be  provided  with 
office,  and  a  thousand  and  one  other  similar  things  so 
occupy  the  time  of  the  office  holder,  that  the  business 
-of  the  city,  to  which  he  has  sworn  to  give  his  time  and 
best  efforts,  cannot  be  attended  to.  Thus  it  happens 
that  the  public  service  of  New  York,  apart  from  one  or 
two  departments,  is  the  most  inefficient,  and  the  most 
shamefully  neglected,  of  any  city  in  the  land. 

In  the  summer  of  1881  the  streets  of  New  York 
were  filthy  beyond  precedent.  Disease  and  death 
stalked  through  the  metropolis.  Suffering  and  sorrow 
clouded  many  an  otherwise  happy  home.  Great  piles 
of  refuse,  which  had  accumulated  during  the  heavy 
snows  of  the  previous  winter,  lay  heaped  in  the  streets, 
rotting  in  the  fierce  heat  of  the  sun  and  scattering  their 
poisons  on  every  hand.  The  press  teemed  with  de- 
scriptions of  the  horrible  scenes  to  be  witnessed,  and 
called  for  the  proper  execution  of  the  health  laws  ;  the 
physicians  of  New  York  warned  the  city  authorities  of 
the  dangers  of  a  serious  pestilence  ;  mass  meetings  of 
indignant  citizens  were  held  and  redress  demanded. 
Yet  for  months  nothing  was  done.  The  city  officials 
had  their  wine-parties,  went  on  excursions  where  they 
could  find  purer  air,  and  deliberately  turned  a  deaf 
ear  to  the  appeals  of  the  great  city.    Secure  in  the 


NEGLECT  OF  THE  CITY's  INTERESTS.  133 

"Btrength  of  the  Irish  vote,  they  laughed  to  scorn  all 
threats  against  their  official  existence.  All  the  while 
the  boss,  the  leaders,  and  the  ring  went  on  with  their 
corrupt  schemes,  careful  only  of  their  own  interests, 
and  sublimely  indifferent  to  the  real  welfare  of  the  peo- 
ple. What  had  they  to  fear  ?  Were  they  not  strong 
in  the  power  of  the  Irish  vote  ? 


134 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  VIII.  * 

BROADWAY. 

BARLY   HISTORY   OF   BROADWAY— UNDER   THE  DUTCH  AND  ENGLISH  RULE— PRIMITIVE  fTAMB  09 

THE  STREET — IT  COMMENCES  TO  GROW — THE  GREAT  FIRE  OF  1 776 — THE  BROADWAY  OF  TO- 
DAY— APPEARANCE  OF  THE  STREET — A  STROLL  ON  BROADWAY — THE  LOWER  STREET — 
TRINITY  CHURCH — THE  INSURANCE  COMPANIES — THE  TELEGRAPH  WIRES — MAGNIFICENT 
BUILDINGS — SCENE  FROM  THE  POST-OFFICE — A  BROADWAY  JAM — LOWER  BROADWAY  BY 
NIGHT — CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  VARIOUS  PORTIONS  OF  THE  STREET — VIEW  FROM  CANAC 
STREET — THE  HOTELS— AMONG  THE  PUBLISHERS — "  STEWARt'S  " — GRACE  CHURCH- 
BROADWAY  AT  UNION  SQUARE — THE  NARROWEST  PART — MADISON  SQUARE — A  GRAND  SIGHT- 
UPPER    BROADWAY  A    STREET    OF    MARBLE  THE    GREAT    HOTELS — THE    CENTRAL  PARK 

REACHED— STREET  CARS  AND  OMNIBUSES — THE  NIGHT  LIFE  OF  BROADWAY — SCENES  ON  THE 
STREET — THE  STREET  WALKERS — THE  ELECTRIC  LIGHT — THE  MIDNIGHT  HOUR — BUSINESS 
ON  BROADWAY. 

To  the  dweller  in  New  York,  Broadway  is  what  the 
Boulevards  are  to  the  Parisian.  It  is  the  centre  of 
life,  gayety,  and  business;  the  great  artery  through 
which  flows  the  strong  life-current  of  the  metropolis. 
From  the  Bowling  Green  to  the  Central  Park,  a  dis- 
tance of  five  miles,  it  is  lined  with  stately  edifices  and 
thronged  with  an  endless  crowd  of  busy  workers,  rest- 
less pleasure-seekers,  the  good  and  the  bad,  the  grave 
and  the  gay,  all  hurrying  on  in  eager  pursuit  of  the 
objects  before  them.  To  the  stranger  it  is  the  great 
*'show  street"  of  the  city,  and  certainly  no  more  won- 
derful sight  can  be  witnessed  than  this  grand  thor- 
oughfare at  high  noon. 

The  history  of  the  street  is  the  history  of  the  city. 
It  has  grown  steadily  with  it,  shared  its  vicissitudes 
and  good  fortune,  and,  like  a  true  mirror,  has  reflected 
every  phase  of  the  wonderful  progresrs  of  New  York. 

Broadway  was  laid  out  as  a  street  by  the  original 


BROADWAY  IN  OLD  TIMES. 


135 


t>utch  settlers  of  New  Amsterdam,  and  was  called  by 
them  the  "  Heere  Straas,"  or  High  Street."  In  the 
days  of  the  Dutch  colony  it  was  lined,  especially  on 
the  east  side,  with  rows  of  pleasant  mansions,  the  gar- 
dens of  which  ran  back  to  the  marsh,  on  the  present 
site  of  Broad  street.  Under  the  Dutch  rule  it  was  ex- 
tended to  Wall  street,  where  the  city  wall  terminated 
it ;  and  beyond  this  were  pleasant  fields  and  pastures, 
Avhere  the  portly  "  mynheers  "  turned  out  their  cows  to 
^raze,  and  dreamily  smoked  their  pipes  under  the 
wide-spreading  trees. 

When  the  English  came  into  possession  of  the  city, 
and  changed  its  name  to  New  York,  Broadway  took  a 
step  forward.  The  character  of  the  buildings  was  im- 
proved, and  Bowling  Green  became  the  centre  of  a 
thickly  settled  and  fashionable  district.  Mr.  Archibald 
Kennedy,  His  Majesty's  Collector  of  the  Port  of  New 
York,  built  the  house  now  known  as  No.  i  Broadway, 
a  stately  mansion  in  its  day,  and  at  one  time  the  head- 
quarters of  the  British  General  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 
The  great  fire  of  1776  greatly  damaged  the  street,  but 
it  was  afterwards  rebuilt  in  a  more  substantial  manner. 
By  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century,  Broadway 
had  advanced  from  the  Old  Dutch  Wall  to  a  point  above 
the  present  City  Hall  Park,  and  by  181 8  it  was  built  up 
beyond  Duane  street.  In  1830  it  had  passed  Canal 
street,  and  the  portion  between  Chambers  and  Canal 
streets  was  the  fashionable  shopping  quarter  of  the 
city.  By  1 832  it  had  reached  Union  Square,  and  by  1841 
had  been  extended  to  Madison  square.  Since  that  year 
the  growth  of  the  street  to  the  Central  Park  has  been 
steady  and  rapid.    Year  after  year  its  various  portions 


136 


NEW  YORK. 


have  changed  their  character.  Business  has  steadily 
driven  out  the  residences,  until  now  along  the  whole 
distance  of  five  miles  there  is  scarcely  a  dwelling  house 
proper  left. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  stranger  in  looking 


BROADWAY,  LOOKING    NORTH    FROM    EXCHANGE  PLACE. 


at  Broadway,  is  its  narrowness.  The  early  citizens 
never  dreamed  of  the  future  greatness  of  their  favorite 
thoroughfare,  and  laid  off  a  street  with  an  average 
width  of  sixty  feet.    For  many  years  -  past,  numerous 


ALONG  BROADWAY. 


137 


plans  have  been  offered  for  widening  certain  portions 
of  the  street,  but  each  has  been  abandoned  because  of 
the  immense  expense  attendant  upon  the  enterprise. 
The  probability  is,  therefore,  that  Broadway  will  retain 
its  present  width  for  all  time.  Through  this  narrow 
street  pours  an  unending  throng  of  vehicles  of  every 
description,  which  fairly  choke  it,  and  cause  it  to  re- 
sound with  the  thunderinof  roar  of  their  wheels.  The 
sidewalks  are  filled  with  handsomely  dressed  ladies, 
with  men  of  wealth  and  fashion,  with  people  in  plainer 
clothes,  representatives  of  all  classes  and  conditions 
of  the  people  of  the  city,  hurrying  on — for  everybody 
walks  rapidly  on  Broadway — jostling  each  other  good 
humoredly.  Over  all  pours  the  bright  radiance  of  the 
sunlight,  which  seems  to  shine  more  beautifully  here 
than  elsewhere,  and  on  all  sides  are  evidences  of  the 
wealth  and  prosperity  of  the  great  city. 

A  stroll  along  Broadway,  we  mean  along  its  entire 
length,  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  occupations  to 
which  the  stranger  in  New  York  can  devote  himself. 
It  requires  considerable  "leg power,"  for  the  distance 
is  five  good  miles,  but  the  scene  is  so  full  of  interest, 
and  there  is  so  much  to  divert  one's  thouehts  from 
fatigue,  that  we  invite  the  reader  to  accompany  us. 

We  start  from  the  Bowling  Green,  a  small  park 
lying  between  the  lower  end  of  Broadway  and  the 
Battery  Park.  Here  we  are  in  a  region  once  the  home 
of  wealth  and  fashion,  but  now  occupied  by  the  ofiices 
of  the  foreign  consuls,  and  the  headquarters  of  the 
great  European  steamship  lines.  Among  these  are 
the  familiar  names  of  the  "Cunard,"  "Inman,"  "White 
.  Star,"  and  other  leading  companies,  whose  palatial 


138 


NEW  YORK. 


Steamers  ply  over  the  great  ferry  between  New  York 
and  Liverpool.  Higher  up  are  the  heavy  importing 
houses,  dealing  chiefly  in  wines,  and  above  these  are 


MUTUAL  LIFE  INSURANCE  BUILDING. 


the  main  offices  of  the  great  Express  Companies. 
Opposite  Wall  street  is  the  stately  edifice  of  Trinity 


ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCH. 


140  NEW  YORK. 

Church, lying  back  among  the  grand  trees  of  its  church- 
yard, and  surrounded  by  the  time-worn  grave  stones  of 
the  old  New  Yorkers  who  lie  sleeping  peacefully  amid 
all  the  turmoil  and  strife  going  on  around  them.  The 
tall  spire  points  solemnly  heavenward,  as  if  to  lift  the  soul 
above  the  vulgar  worship  of  mammon  in  the  city  below, 
and  at  intervals  the  sweet  tones  of  the  chimes  come 
floating  down  into  the  street,  telling  that  wealth  is  not 
all,  folly  is  not  all,  pleasure  is  not  all,  business  is  not 
all,  but  that  there  is  something  purer,  nobler,  waiting 
high  above  the  golden  cross  which  the  sunlight  bathes 
so  lovingly.  Looking  down  Wall  street  one  sees  an 
equally  busy  throng,  and  catches  a  glimpse  of  the 
stately  edifices  with  which  the  street  is  lined. 

Passing  Trinity  Churchyard  we  notice  the  immense 
brick  building  which  forms  its  upper  boundary.  This 
is  the  headquarters  of  the  coal  trade,  not  only  of  the 
city,  but  of  a  large  portion  of  the  Union,  and  here 
fortunes  are  made  and  lost  by  wise  or  unwise  dealings 
in  "  black  diamonds."  Insurance  offices  now  begin  to 
multiply  on  both  sides  of  the  street,  and  on  the  right 
we  notice  the  superb  structure  of  the  Equitable  Life 
Insurance  Company,  above  which  is  the  marble  build- 
ing of  the  Mutual  Life.  These  are  very  Towers  of 
Babel,  and  dwarf  the  neighboring  structures,  which  are 
themselves  buildings  of  large  proportions.  On  the  left, 
at  the  corner  of  Dey  street,  the  tall  tower  of  the 
Western  Union  Telegraph  Company  rears  its  lofty 
head,  and  from  it  a  bewildering  network  of  wires 
stretches  away  in  all  directions,  high  overhead,  and  look- 
ing like  a  gigantic  spider's  web  drawn  against  the  sky. 
Across  the  way,  at  the  corner  of  Fulton  street,  is  the 


142 


NEW  YORK. 


office  of  The  Evening  Post,  eight  or  nine  stones  in 
height,  a  massive  structure  of  brick.  On  the  same 
side,  above  Fulton  street,  is  the  beautiful  white  marble 
building  of  the  National  Park  Bank,  its  front  elaborately 
ornamented  with  statuary,  one  of  the  most  sumptuous 
bank  edifices  in  the  city.  Next  door  is  the  Herald 
Building,"  also  of  white  marble,  in  which  is  published  "the 
King  of  American  Dailies,"  the  world-famous  New  York 
Herald,  Opposite  these  two  buildings,  on  the  west 
side  of  Broadway,  occupying  the  entire  block  from 
Fulton  to  Vesey  streets,  is  St.  Paul's  churchyard,  with 
its  rows  of  crumbling  tombstones.  In  it  stands  the 
venerable  St.  Paul's  Church,  one  of  the  few  ante-Revo- 
lutionary buildings  remaining  in  the  city.  In  this 
church  the  "  Father  of  his  country,"  in  the  early  period 
of  the  War  of  Independence,  heard  himself  denounced 
by  the  Royalist  clergyman  as  a  "  Traitor  to  his  King 
and  his  God."  The  square  above  the  church  is  occu- 
pied by  the  Astor  House,  once  the  most  famous  hotel 
in  New  York,  and  even  now,  though  reduced  in  size, 
an  excellent  and  well-patronized  establishment.  Op- 
posite stands  the  great  Post  Office,  running  far  back 
into  the  City  Hall  Park,  of  which  it  now  forms  the 
southern  boundary.  At  the  southern  end  of  the  Post 
Office,  Broadway  and  Park  Row  come  together  at  an 
acute  angle,  and  the  porch  of  the  great  building  con- 
stitutes one  of  the  best  points  from  which  to  view  the 
lower  part  of  the  former  street.  Nothing  in  the  street 
life  of  New  York  is  more  striking  than  the  scene  be- 
fore us.  "  From  morning  till  night  there  moves  by  an 
ever-changing  procession  of  vehicles,  that  have  poured 
into  the  great  artery  from  a  thousand  tributaries,  and 


A  BROADWAY  JAM. 


143 


to  cross  Broadway,  at  times,  at  this  spot,  one  must 
needs  be  a  sort  of  animated  billiard-ball,  with  power 
to  carom  from  wheel  to  wheel  until  he  can  safely 
'pocket'  his  personal  corporacity  on  the  opposite  walk. 
The  crush  of  vehicles  here  is  sometimes  so  great  as  to 
delay  movement  for  ten  minutes  or  more,  and  it  re- 
quires the  greatest  energy  on  the  part  of  the  police  to 
disentangle  the  dense,  chaotic  mass  and  set  it  in  pro- 
gress again.  For  those  who  are  not  obliged  to  cross 
the  choked-up  thoroughfare,  the  scene  is  full  of  a  brief 
amusement — ^hack-drivers,  truckmen,  omnibus  drivers, 
swearing  vehemently  at  each  other,  or  interchanging 
all  kinds  of  *  chaff' ;  passengers  indignantly  railing  at 
the  delay,  and  police  officers  yelling  and  waving  their 
clubs  in  their  attempts  to  get  the  machinery  of  travel 
again  running  smoothly.  If,  at  such  a  time,  a  fire- 
engine  comes  rattling  up  the  street,  post-haste  for  the 
scene  of  a  fire,  and  attempts  to  enforce  its  right  of  way, 
the  confusion  becomes  doubly  confounded,  and  the 
scene  a  veritable  pandemonium.  Ordinarily,  however* 
such  tangles  of  traffic  do  not  occur,  for  this  locality  is 
fully  supplied  with  policemen,  whose  main  business  i':> 
to  facilitate  the  passage  of  travel  and  prevent  such  ;j 
blockade  as  we  have  described. 

"The  outlook  down  Broadway  from  the  Post  Office 
is  in  all  respects  picturesque  and  impressive,  and  fillst 
the  mind  with  a  vivid  sense  of  the  immense  activity  of 
New  York  life.  In  the  distance  the  towers  of  Trinity 
Church  and  the  Equitable  Life  Insurance  Building 
lift  themselves  as  landmarks,  and  noble  buildinors 
thickly  studding  the  squares  between  the  New  York 
Evening  Post  Building  and  the  Western  Union  Telegraph 


144 


NEW  YORK. 


Building,  attract  the  eye  by  their  massiveness  and 
dignity;  and  directly  opposite  the  spectator,  but  stand- 
ing diagonally  to  each  other,  the  Astor  House  and 
Herald  Building  demand  the  attention,  as  representing 
institutions  which  have  been  household  words  in  New 
York  for  the  last  forty  yeah-s  or  more.  Up  and  down 
this  vista  roars  and  streams  an  ocean-tide  of  travel  and 
traffic,  and  the  eye  can  find  food  for  continual  interest  in 
its  changing  kaleidoscope.  Well  dressed  men  and 
women  are  brushed  in  the  throng  by  beggars  and 
laborers  grimed  with  the  dust  of  work;  and  grotesquely 
attired  negroes  with  huge  advertising  placards  strapped 
to  the  front  and  back,  pace  up  and  down,  in  happy 
ignorance  of  the  inconvenience  they  give  to  others  by 
taking  up  a  double  share  of  room.  Fruit  and  flower 
stands  offer  their  tempting  burdens  on  every  corner, 
and  retail  venders  of  all  kinds  peddle  their  goods,  and 
add  fresh  discord  to  the  din  by  their  shrill  crying  of  their 
wares.  About  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  however, 
the  feverish  activity  of  this  region  begins  to  abate,  and 
it  is  not  long  before  the  appearance  of  the  scene  be- 
comes lethargic  and  quiet.  Down  town,  New  York  has 
now  begun  to  go  to  sleep,  and  it  will  not  be  many  hours 
before  the  silence  and  emptiness  will  be  alone  re- 
lieved by  the  blaze  of  lights  in  the  newspaper  establish- 
ments of  Printing  House  Square  and  the  Western 
Union  Telegraph  Building,  by  the  occasional  tramp  of 
the  policeman  or  reporter,  or  the  rattling  of  a  casual 
carriage  over  the  stony  pave.  This  busy  part  of  the 
city  will  not  begin  to  waken  again  till  about  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  when  the  numerous  street  car  lines 
which  terminate  in  this  vicinity  commence  to  run  their 


BROADWAY  AT  THE  CITY  HALL. 


145 


carfe,  bringing-  down  porters,  mechanics  and  laborers  as 
the  vanguard  of  the  great  army  whose  thronging  bat- 
talions will  make  the  new  day  the  repetition  of  the  one 
before." 

Continuing  our  stroll  up  Broadway,  we  pass  on  our 
right  the  City  Hall  Park,  tlite  only  open  space  in  this 
section  of  the  city.  Here  are  the  City  Hall  and  the 
new  Court  House,  both  handsome  buildings,  and  across 
the  Park  looms  up  the  tall  tower  of  the  New  York 
Tribune  Building,  surmounted  by  an  illuminated  clock. 
On  the  west  side  of  Broadway  the  buildings  are  hand- 
some, large,  and  gener3.11y  of  iron  or  marble.  The 
upper  floors  are  devoted  mainly  to  offices,  and  here 
the  lawyers  congregate,  because  of  their  proximity  to 
the  courts.  Fireproof  safes,  firearms,  and  the  lighter 
articles  of  machinery  have  their  headquarters  here. 
At  the  northeast  corner  of  Broadway  and  Chambers 
street  is  an  elegant  marble  structure,  once  the  whole- 
sale house  of  the  great  firm  of  A.  T.  Stewart  &  Co.^ 
but  now  devoted  to  other  purposes. 

Above  Chambers  street  we  enter  a  region  devoted 
mainly  to  wholesale  dry  goods  and  kindred  establish-^ 
ments,  such  as  ribbons,  fancy  goods,  boots  and  shoes, 
clothing,  etc.,  and  these  establishments  give  character 
to  the  street  almost  to  Union  Square.  The  buildings 
are  large  and  elegant,  marble  and  iron  being  chiefly 
used.  Some  of  the  iron  structures  are  fancifully 
ornamented  in  gay  colors,  and  present  a  pleasing  con^ 
trast  to  the  long  rows  of  solid  colored  edifices.  Glancing 
down  the  cross  streets  we  see  long  rows  of  equally 
imposing  business  structures,  stretching  away  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach,  all  telling  of  the  immense  amount 

10 


146 


NEW  YORK. 


of  trade  and  wealth  embraced  in  this  section  of  the 
city.  Not  one  of  these  buildings  would  shame  Broad- 
way, and  the  little  narrow  lane,  lying  just  west  of  and 
parallel  with  it,  and  known  as  Church  street,  fairly 
rivals  the  great  thoroughfare  in  the  splendor  of  its 
business  edifices. 

At  the  corner  of  Leonard  street  is  the  marble  build- 
ing of  the  New  York  Life  Insurance  Company,  one  of 
the  finest  structures  ever  erected  by  private  enterprise 
in  America.  It  is  a  model  of  taste  and  elegance,  and 
forms  one  of  the  most  imposing  features  of  the  street, 
being  of  pure  white  marble  on  both  the  Broadway  and 
Leonard  street  fronts.  Its  interior  decorations  and 
arrangements  are  magnificent. 

Canal  street  is  now  reached.  This  is  a  broad,  hand- 
some thoroughfare,  extending  from  the  Bowery  to  the 
Hudson  River,  and  crosses  Broadway  at  right  angles. 
It  was  once  the  bed  of  a  stream,  which  has  since  been 
converted  into  a  sewer.  At  the  southwest  corner  stands 
the  Brandreth  House,  a  monument  to  the  success  of  the 
"Patent  Medicine"  trade.  From  this  point  a  fine  view 
is  had  of  Broadway  in  both  directions — from  Trinity 
Church  on  the  south  to  Grace  Church  on  the  north. 
The  eye  takes  in  the  long  lines  of  stately  buildings,  the 
constantly  moving  throngs  of  pedestrians  and  vehicles, 
,  and  the  ear  is  deafened  by  the  steady  roar  which  goes 
up  unceasingly  from  the  streets,  for  this  is  one  of  the 
busiest  parts  of  Broadway. 

Higher  up  the  street,  between  Broome  and  Spring, 
is  the  St.  Nicholas,  once  the  most  famous,  and  still  one 
of  the  most  thoroughly  comfortable  hotels  of  New 
Vork.    In  the  square  above  is  Tony  Pastor's  Theatre; 


AMONG  THE  PUBLISHERS. 


147 


and  at  the  corner  of  Prince  street,  on  the  east  side  of 
Broadway,  is  the  imposing  brownstone  structure  of 
the  Metropolitan  Hotel,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  the 
handsome  entrance  to  Niblo's  Theatre,  which  lies  im- 
mediately in  the  rear  of  the  hotel.  Above  Houston 
street,  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  is  the  marble 
front  of  the  Grand  Central  Hotel,  rising  to  a  height 
of  eight  stories,  and  surmounted  by  a  Mansard  roof — 
a  monster  establishment.  Above  this  the  buildings  for 
several  squares  are  not  as  handsome  as  those  lower 
down  the  street,  but  improvements  are  being  con- 
stantly made,  which  will  soon  render  this  portion  of 
Broadway  equal  to  anything  above  or  below  it.  The 
square  between  Washington  and  Waverly  Places  is 
occupied  by  the  simple  but  aristocratic-looking  red 
brick  front  of  the  New  York  Hotel,  one  of  the  most 
ultra  fashionable  houses  of  the  city,  and  the  favorite 
resort  of  the  Southerners  who  visit  the  cit)\  Immedi- 
ately opposite  is  Harrigan  &  Hart's  new  theatre,  -the 
most  attractive  variety  show  in  the  metropolis.  A 
square  above,  ^Astor  Place  opens  to  the  eastward,  and 
we  catch  distant  views  of  the  Cooper  Institute  and  the 
Great  Bible  House,  with  the  elevated  railroad  rising* 
beyond  them.  The  western  side  of  Broadway  here  is 
largely  devoted  to  the  book  trade,  several  of  the  lead- 
ing publishing  houses  of  the  country  being  quartered 
in  magnificent  buildings,  erected  especially  for  their 
uses.  At  9th  street,  and  extending  on  Broadway  to 
loth,  and  from  Broadway  back  to  F'ourth  avenue,  is 
the  immense  iron  structure  occupied  by  the  house  of 
A.  T.  Stewart  &  Co. — probably  the  largest  establish- 
ment of  its  kind  in  the  world.    Long  rows  of  private 


148 


NEW  YORK. 


carriages  are  always  standing  in  front  of  it,  and  an  un 
broken  throng  of  purchasers  is  constantly  entering  and 
departing  from  its  doors.  Immediately  above  is  Grace 
Church,  a  handsome  edifice  of  white  marble,  with  a 
pretty  rectory  of  the  same  material ;  and  just  opposite, 
at  the  corner  of  loth  street  and  Broadway,  is  the  fine 
building  of  the  Methodist  Book  Concern,  the  street 
floor  of  which  is  occupied  by  one  of  New  York's  mon- 
ster dry  goods  stores.  Here  Broadway  turns  slightly 
toward  the  northwest,  and  pursues  a  straight  course 
to  Union  Square,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant. 
This  portion  of  the  street  is  handsomely  built,  and  im- 
provements are  being  constantly  made  in  it.  The 
stores  are  mainly  devoted  to  the  retail  dry  goods  busi- 
ness, millinery,  fancy  goods,  and  jewelry.  At  the 
northeast  corner  of  13th  street  is  Wallack's  Theatre, 
for  many  years  the  favorite  place  of  amusement  with 
the  dwellers  in  the  great  city.  In  the  course  of  a  few 
months  the  house  will  be  deserted  by  its  present  occu- 
pants, and  a  new  "  Wallack's  "  will  be  opened  higher 
op  town. 

At  14th  street,  a  noble  thoroughfare,  stretching  across 
the  entire  island  from  east  to  west,  we  reach  Union 
■f  Square,  a  handsome  park  of  three  or  four  acres,  which 
breaks  the  continuity  of  Broadway.  This  is  one  of  the 
handsomest  of  the  smaller  parks  of  New  York,  and  is 
tastefully  adorned  with  shrubbery,  statuary  and  foun- 
tains. We  shall  refer  to  it  again  elsewhere.  Broad- 
way passes  around  Union  Square  in  a  northwesterly 
direction,  and  is  lined  with  large  and  elegant  buildings 
of  marble  and  iron.  At  the  southwest  corner  of  14th 
street  is  the  splendid  iron  building  of  the  Domestic 


BROADWAY  AT  UNION  SQUARE. 


149 


Sewing  Machine  Company.  Just  above  14th  street 
is  Brentano's  News  Depot,  the  great  literary  rendez- 
vous of  New  York ;  and  on  the  southwest  corner  of 
15th  street  is  the  famous  jewelry  establishment  of 
Tiffany  &  Co.,  the  largest  of  its  kind  in  the  United 
States. 

Union  Square  is  left  at  1 7th  street,  and  we  pass  once 
more  into  Broadway  proper.  This  is  the  narrow- 
est portion  of  the  great  street,  and  plans  are  being 
constantly  presented  for  widening  it  on  the  east  side. 
Consequently,while  the  west  side  of  the  street  is  built  up 
with  magnificent  structures  of  marble  and  iron,  the  east 
side  is  lined  with  small,  unpretending  buildijigs.  The 
entire  block  on  the  west  side,  from  1 8th  to  19th  streets, 
is  occupied  by  a  row  of  magnificent  marble  buildings, 
used  as  retail  dry  goods  and  fancy  goods  stores.  The 
19th  street  end  is  occupied  by  the  great  dry  goods 
house  of  Arnold,  Constable  &  Co.  At  the  southwest 
corner  of  20th  street  is  another  of  these  monster  dry 
goods  houses,  a  beautiful  iron  building,  owned  and 
occupied  by  the  firm  of  Lord  &  Taylor.  The  show 
windows  pf  this  establishment  constitute  one  of  the 
prettiest  sights  of  Broadway,  and  are  filled  with  the 
richest  and  rarest  goods  of  every  description,  amount- 
ing in  value  to  thousands  of  dollars.  In  the  'square 
above,  on  the  east  side,  is  the  Park  Theatre,  one  of 
the  prettiest,  as  regards  the  interior,  in  the  city. 

At  23d  street  Broadway  crosses  the  Fifth  avenue, 
going  obliquely  to  the  northwest.  From  the  south- 
west corner  of  Broadway  and  23d  street  we  obtain 
one  of  the  finest  views  in  the  city.  23d  street,  one  of 
the  widest  in  the  metropolis,  stretches  away  east  and 


THE  FINEST  VIEW  IN  NEW  YORK. 


151 


west,  lined  with  stately  buildings.  On  the  right  is 
Madison  Square,  the  handsomest  of  all  the  smaller 
parks,  beautifully  shaded  with  noble  trees,  and  adorned 
with  shrubbery,  fountains  and  statuary.  On  the  east 
side  of  the  Square  is  Madison  avenue,  one  of  the 
stateliest  and  most  fashionable  streets  of  the  metropolis. 
The  Fifth  avenue  leads  away  to  the  northward,  a  splen- 
did mass  of  brownstone  buildings,  broken  at  intervals 
by  numerous  church  spires.  To  the  northwest  is 
Broadway,  lined  with  superb  marble  edifices  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach.  The  throng  of  vehicles  and  pedes- 
trians is  very  great  here,  coming  and  going  in  all 
directions,  and  all  the  streets  which  centre  here  pre- 
sent a  gay  and  animated  appearance,  and  the  whole 
scene  constitutes  a  panorama  unequaled  by  anything 
in  any  of  the  great  capitals  of  the  Old  World. 

Crossing  23d  street  and  Fifth  avenue  at  the  same 
time,  we  come  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel.  This 
immense  building  occupies  an  entire  square,  from  23d 
to  24th  streets,  and  fronts  on  both  Fifth  avenue  and 
Broadway.  It  is  built  of  white  marble,  and  is  six  stories 
in  height.  The  block  from  24th  to  25th  streets  is  occu- 
pied by  the  Albemarle  and  Hoffman  Houses,  in  the 
order  named.  Both  are  of  white  marble.  Immediately 
opposite,  at  the  intersection  of  Broadway  and  Fifth 
avenue,  is  a  handsome  granite  monument,  erected  to 
the  memory  of  General  W.  J.  Worth,  a  gallant  soldier 
of  the  Seminole  and  Mexican  wars.  Facino^  this  is  the 
New  York  Club  House,  a  tasteful  red  brick  building, 
frondng  on  Broadway  and  Fifth  avenue.  Above  this, 
and  also  fronting  on  both  streets,  is  the  famous  restau- 
rant of  Delmonico.    At  the  southwest  corner  of  26th 


152 


NEW  YORK. 


Street  stands  the  St.  James  Hotel,  also  of  white  marble; 
and  just  across  .the  way  is  the  Victoria  Hotel,  formerly 
known  as  the  Stevens  House.  It  is  an  immense  pile 
of  red  brick,  with  light  stone  trimmings,  and  is  five 
stories  high,  with  a  Mansard  roof  containing  three 
stories  more.  It  was  the  first  of  the  monster  "Apart- 
ment Houses"  erected  in  New  York,  and  was  built  by 
the  late  Paran  Stevens.  On  the  northwest  corner  of 
27th  street  is  the  Coleman  House,  and  at  the  southeast 
corner  of  29th  street  is  the  Sturtevant  House.  On 
the  opposite  corner  of  29th  street,  also  on  the  east  side 
of  Broadway,  is  the  Gilsey  House,  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  hotel  edifices  in  the  city.  It  is  built  of  iron, 
is  highly  ornamented,  and  is  painted  white.  Diagonally 
opposite,  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  is  Daly*s 
Broadway  Theatre,  formerly  known  as  Wood's  Museum. 
At  the  southeast  corner  of  30th  street  rises  Wallack's 
New  Theatre,  one  of  the  most  perfectly  appointed  and 
beautiful  establishments  of  its  kind  in  New  York. 
Immediately  above  this  is  the  marble  building  of  the 
Grand  Hotel.  On  3 2d  street,  between  Broadway  and 
Sixth  avenue,  is  the  superb  marble  structure  of  the 
Union  Dime  Savings  Bank,  facing  northward. 

At  34th  street  Broadway  crosses  the  Sixth  avenue 
obliquely,  still  pursuing  its  northwesterly  course. 
Above  this  point  the  street  is  poorly  built  up.  At  42d 
street  are  two  handsome  hotels,  the  Rossmore,  on  the 
southwest  corner,  and  the  St.  Cloud,  on  the  southeast 
corner,  immediately  opposite.  Continuing  its  north- 
westerly course,  Broadway  crosses  the  Seventh  avenue 
at  44th  street.  This  portion  of  the  street  is  sparsely 
built,  and  is  uninteresting  unfil  the  neighborhood  of  the 


NIGHT  SCENES  ON  BROADWAY. 


153 


Park  is  reached,  where  immense  blocks  of  "Apartment 
Houses"  line  it  on  both  sides. 

Below  14th  street  there  are  no  street  railways  on 
Broadway.  From  Union  Square  to  the  Central  Park 
there  is  a  single  horse-car  line,  which  passes  into  Univer- 
sity Place  and  thence  southward  below  14th  street. 
From  Union  Square  to  the  lower  end  of  the  street 
Broadway  is  traversed  by  several  lines  of  stages,  which 
monopolize  the  street  traffic  in  this  section.  On  all 
portions  of  the  street  the  travel,  as  we  have  stated,  is 
very  great.  It  is  estimated  that  at  least  20,000  vehicles 
traverse  Broadway  every  twenty-four  hours.  All  day 
the  roar  and  the  rush  are  continuous,  and  the  scene  is 
brilliant  and  attractive.  In  the  morning  the  throng 
pours  down  town,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  tide  changes, 
and  flows  back  northward  to  the  upper  portions  of  the 
city. 

As  night  comes  on,  the  lower  portion  of  Broadway 
begins  to  be  deserted.  But  few  persons  are  to  be 
seen  on  the  sidewalks,  and  the  omnibuses  and  car- 
riages have  the  roadway  to  themselves.  By  eight 
o'clock  Broadway  below  Canal  street  is  almost  de- 
serted, save  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  Post 
Office.  Gradually  this  region  becomes  silent  also,  and. 
below  Union  Square  but  little  of  interest  is  to  be  seen. 
The  true  night-life  of  Broadway  is  to  be  witnessed 
chiefly  between  23d  and  34th  streets.  From  Union 
Square  to  34th  street  the  great  thoroughfare  is  ablaze 
with  the  electric  light,  which  illumines  it  with  the  ra- 
diance of  day.  Crowds  throng  the  sidewalks ;  the 
lights  of  the  omnibuses  and  carriages  dart  to  and 
fro  along  the  roadway  like  myriads  of  fire-flies ;  the 


164 


NEW  YORK. 


great  hotels,  the  theatres  and  restaurants,  send  out 
their  blaze  of  gas-lamps,  and  are  alive  with  visitors. 
The  crowd  is  out  for  pleasure  at  night,  and  many  and 
varied  are  the  forms  which  the  pursuit  of  it  takes. 
Here  is  a  family — father,  mother,  and  children — out 
for  a  stroll  to  see  the  sights  they  have  witnessed  a 
hundred  times,  and  which  never  grow  dull ;  there  is  a 
party  of  theatre-goers,  bent  on  an  evening  of  innocent 
amusement;  here  is  a  "gang  of  roughs,"  swaggering 
along  the  sidewalk  and  jostling  all  who  come  within 
their  way;  here  a  party  of  young  bloods,  out  for  a 
lark,  are  drawing  upon  themselves  the  keen  glances 
of  the  stalwart  policeman,  as  he  slowly  follows  in  their 
rear.  All  sorts  of  people  are  out,  and  the  scene  is  en- 
livening beyond  description.  Moving  rapidly  through 
the  throng,  sometimes  in  couples,  sometimes  alone, 
and  glancing  swiftly  and  keenly  at  the  men  they  pass, 
are  a  number  of  flashily-dressed  women,  generally 
young,  but  far  from  attractive.  You  would  never  mis- 
take them  for  respectable  women,  and  they  do  not  in- 
tend that  you  shall.  They  do  not  dare  to  stop  and 
converse  with  men  on  the  street,  for  the  eyes  of  the 
police  are  upon  them,  and  such  a  proceeding  would  be 
met  with  a  sharp  order  to  "  move  on."  These  are  the 
"  Street  Walkers,"  one  of  the  most  degraded  sections 
of  the  "  Lost  Sisterhood."  The  men  of  the  city  shun 
them,  and  their  prey  is  the  stranger.  Should  they  sue- ' 
ceed  in  attracting  the  attention  of  a  victim,  they  dart 
off  down  the  first  side  street,  and  wait  for  their  dupes 
to  join  them.  Woe  to  the  man  who  follows  after  one 
of  these  creatures.  The  next  step  is  to  some  of  the 
k)w  dives  which  still  occupy  too  many  of  the  cellars 


THE  FASHIONABLE  SHOPPING  QUARTER.  155 

along  Broadway.  Here  bad  or  drugged  liquors  steal 
away  the  senses  of  the  luckless  victim,  and  robbery,  or 
even  worse  violence,  too  often  ends  the  adventure. 
These  women  have  gone  so  far  down  into  the  depths 
of  sin,  that  they  scruple  at  nothing  which  will  bring 
them  money. 

The  throng  fills  the  street  until  a  late  hour  of  the 
night.  Then  the  theatres  pour  out  their  audiences  to 
join  it,  and  for  an  hour  or  more  the  restaurants  and 
cafes  are  filled  to  their  utmost  capacity.  Then,  as 
midnight  comes  on,  the  street  becomes  quieter  and 
more  deserted.  The  lights  in  the  buildings  are  extin- 
guished, and  gradually  upper  Broadway  becomes  silent 
and  deserted.  New  York  has  gone  to  bed ;  and 
Broadway  enjoys  a  rest  of  a  few  hours,  only  to  begin 
at  daybreak  a  repetition  of  the  scenes  of  the  previous 
day. 

'  The  upper  part  of  Broadway  constitutes,  as  we  have 
said,  the  fashionable  shopping  quarter  of  New  York. 
Here  are  the  finest  stores,  the  richest  and  most  tempt- 
ing display  of  goods.  New  Yorkers  prefer  to  shop 
here,  for  they  know  that  Broadway  prices  are  no 
higher  than  those  charged  in  other  sections,  while  the 
stock  of  goods  to  choose  from  is  larger  and  better. 
You  pay  here  only  what  an  article  is  worth,  and  no 
more,  and  you  can  rely  upon  the  representations  of  the 
employees  in  the  leading  houses  as  truthful.  Yet  it 
must  not  be  understood  that  all  the  Broadway  mer- 
chants are  models  of  honesty  and  fair  dealing.  The 
street  reflects  the  good  and  the  bad  qualities  of  New 
York,  and  there  are  many  establishments  along  its 
length  where  the  purchaser  must  use  his  wits  and  keep 


156 


NEW  YORK. 


his  eyes  open.  The  greatest  scoundrels  deal  right 
alongside  of  the  most  reputable  merchants.  In  one 
thing  only  does  Broadway  maintain  a  uniform  standard. 
It  represents  the  cheerfulness  and  success  of  the  great 
city.  No  struggling  merchants  are  seen  along  its  miles 
of  palaces  of  trade,  and  failure  has  no  place  in  the 
street.  Successful  men  alone  deal  here,  no  matter  by 
what  methods  the  success  has  been  won.  Poverty  is 
banished  to  the  back  streets,  and  Broadway  glitters  in 
the  sunshine  of  prosperity. 


THE  STAGE  ROUTES. 


157 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  BROADWAY  STAGES. 

rOfTTLARITT  OP  THIS  MODE  OF  CONVEYANCE — A  CHEAP  PLEASURE— DESCRIPTIOK  «P  THE  VAR> 
OUS  LINES — THE  STAGES  AS  REGARDS  COMFORT — THE  OUTSIDE  SEATS — "  KNOCKING  DOWM 
IN  BY-GONE  days" — THE  PATENT  CASH  BOX  SYSTEM — THE  "  SPOTTERS  " — A  NIGHT  RIDB 
WITH  JEHU— THE  "  BOSS  "  ON  THE  WATCH — MYSTERIOUS  SIGNALS — SKILL  OF  THE  STAG* 
DRIVERS — A  STAGE  DRIVER  PHOTOGRAPHED— SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  DRIVERS— UPS  AND  DOWN* 
OF  THE  CRAFT — THE  MUTUAL  BENEFIT  ASSOCIATION. 

In  spite  of  the  success  of  the  elevated  railways, 
and  of  the  large  number  of  passengers  carried  by  the 
street  car  lines,  the  stages  or  omnibuses  still  manage 
to  hold  their  own.  Until  a  year  or  two  ago  the  fare  on 
all  the  lines  was  ten  cents,  but  since  the  completion  of 
the  elevated  railways  it  has  been  reduced  to  five  cents. 
The  low  fares  and  the  fact  that,  except  for  a  short 
distance  on  upper  Broadway,  the  stages  pursue  routes 
free  from  the  presence  and  competition  of  the  street  cars,, 
enable  them  still  to  command  a  very  large  share  of  the 
street  travel  of  the  city.  In  Broadway,  below  Union 
Square,  and  in  Fifth  and  Madison  avenues,  they  are 
the  sole  dependence  of  those  who  wish  to  ride  cheaply 
along  those  thoroughfares.  The  principal  lines  now 
are  as  follows: — 

The  Broadway  and  Fifth  Avenue,  starting  from  the 
Fulton  Ferry,  on  the  East  River,  passing  up  Fulton 
street  to  Broadway,  along  which  it  continues  to  23d 
street,  where  it  enters  Fifth  avenue,  and  follows  that 
thoroughfare  as  far  as  the  Windsor  Hotel. 

The  Broadway,  Twenty-third  Street  and  Ninth 
Avenue,  running  along  Broadway  from  the  South 


158 


NEW  YORK. 


Ferry  to  23d  street,  thence  along  that  street  to  Ninth 

wenue,  and  up  that  avenue  to  30th  street. 

The  Madison  Aveiiue  Line,  running  from  the  Wall 
street  ferry  on  the  East  River,  up  Wall  street  to  Broad- 
way, thence  to  Madison  avenue  at  23d  street,  and  up 
that  avenue  to  42d  street. 

The  stages  are  clumsy,  uncomfortable  vehicles, 
inconvenient  to  enter,  fatiguing  to  ride  in,  and  danger- 
ous to  leave.  They  are  neither  as  commodious  nor 
as  comfortable  as  those  of  the  great  European  cities, 
and  unlike  them,  have  no  seats  on  top.  There  is  room 
on  the  driver's  seat  for  two  passengers,  one  on  each 
side  of  him,  but  to  reach  these  one  must  be  expert  at 
climbing.  They  are,  by  far,  the  best  places  from  which 
to  view  the  street,  and  if  the  driver  is  inclined  to  be 
talkative,  many  a  pleasant  half  hour  may  be  spent  in 
chatting  with  him. 

Uncomfortable  as  they  are,  the  stages  are  an  insti- 
tution of  New  York,  and  are  liberally  patronized.  One 
reason  of  this  is  that  they  constitute,  as  has  been  stated, 
the  only  means  of  cheap  travel  on  the  streets  they 
frequent ;  and  another  is  that  from  them  one  can  enjoy 
one  of  the  best  views  of  Broadway  and  the  magnificent 
avenues,  with  their  wonderful  sights,  for  the  insignifi- 
cant sum  of  half  a  dime — certainly  one  of  the  cheapest 
as  well  as  one  of  the  most  genuine  pleasures  the  city 
affords. 

In  former  days  the  driver  of  a  stage  was  furnished 
with  a  cash-box,  which  was  securely  fastened  to  the  roof 
of  the  coach,  at  his  left  hand.  All  the  money  received 
passed  through  his  hands,  and  he  had  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  "  knocking  down,"  or  appropriating  a  modest 


KNOCKING  DOWN. 


159 


sum  to  his  own  use.  This  led  him  to  be  very  zealous 
in  picking  up  passengers,  for  the  larger  the  receipts 
the  greater  his  chance  of  "  knocking  down  "  without 
detection.  It  was  in  those  days  a  well-established  fact 
that  those  who  w^ere  the  most  skillful  in  helping  them- 
selves always  made  the  largest  returns  to  the  office. 

Now,  however,  each  coach  is  provided  with  the 
Slawson  patent  cash-box,  which  is  placed  inside,  at  the 
front  end  of  the  vehicle.  As  he  starts  on  his  rounds 
the  driver  is  furnished  with  little  envelopes  containing 
various  sums,  ranging  from  ten  cents  to  two  dollars. 
Each  envelope  contains  a  stage  ticket  and  the  balance 
of  the  amount,  whatever  it  may  be,  in  money.  Passen- 
gers entering  the  coach,  if  they  have  the  amount  in 
change,  deposit  it  in  the  Slawson  box,w^hich  is  so  placed 
that  the  driver  can  see  w'hether  the  correct  fare  is  paid  or 
not.  If  change  is  desired,  the  money  is  handed  to  the 
driver  through  a  hole  in  the  roof  in  the  rear  of  his  seat» 
and  he  returns  an  envelope  containing  a  ticket  and  the 
remainder  of  the  sum  given  him  in  change.  The  ticket 
is  then  deposited  in  the  cash  box  by  the  passenger.  As 
he  must  return  the  envelopes  given  him  at  starting,  or 
their  equivalent  in  money,  the  driver  has  no  opportun- 
ity of  "knocking  down."  His  only  opportunity  for 
practicing  the  old  game  lies  in  the  fares  paid  him  by 
the  outside  riders,  who  cannot  make  use  of  the  cash  box. 
This  has  its  risks,  however,  for  he  is  closely  watched, 
and  the  number  of  "  outsiders  "  is  carefully  counted  by 
"  spotters  "  or  spies  placed  along  the  route  by  the  pro- 
prietor. Sometimes  the  "boss  "  takes  this  office  upon 
himself,  to  the  great  disgust  of  the  driver. 

One  night,  not  long  since,  a  Fifth  avenue  stage  was 


160  NEW  YORK. 

passing  the  Fifth  avenue  Hotel,  on  its  downward  trip. 
Among  the  passengers  was  an  outsider,  who  sat  on  the 
driver's  right,  enjoying  the  beautiful  panorama  of  the 
lighted  streets,  and  chatting  socially  with  the  knight  of 
the  whip.  As  they  came  opposite  the  great  hotel,  with 
its  blaze  of  gas  and  electric  lights,  the  driver  turned 
suddenly  to  his  companion,  and  exclaimed: — 

"Do  you  see  that  old  duffer  with  a  slouched  hat — 
that  one  just  sneaking  out  of  sight?  He's  my  boss. 
If  I  was  worth  as  much  as  he  is,  I  wouldn't  stand 
around  all  night  watching  stages." 

"How  much  is  he  worth?" 
'Bout  four  million." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  He  ?  Why,  he's  old  Andrews,  who  runs  the  whole 
outfit.  Thought  everybody  knew  him.  We  know  him. 
He  runs  seventy  'busses  on  this  line  and  scoops  in 
three'r  four  hundred  a  day,  clean  money.  He's  been 
offered's  high's  $200,000  cash  for  the  line,  but  he 
wouldn't  have  it." 

"What  keeps  him  around  here  at  night?" 

''Just'er  see  that  we  don't  'knock  down'  the  fares  of 
passengers  on  top.  We  have  to  make  a  special  return 
on  the  last  trip  for  all  top  fares.  The  old  chap  hangs 
around  to  catch  the  boys." 

Just  then  an  up-town  stage  of  the  same  line  was 
passed.  There  was  a  mysterious  interchange  of  sig- 
nals between  the  two  drivers.  The  upward  bound  had 
been  warned  by  the  downward  bound  that  the  "boss" 
was  on  duty. 

"Sometimes,"  continued  the  driver,  in  his  slow, 
scornful  way,  "he's  there  by  the  Fifth  Avenue,  where 


THE  "boss"  ON  THE  WATCH. 


161 


you  saw  him;  next  trip  he'll  be  down  to  Bleecker 
street;  maybe  he'll  jump  in  and  ride  a  few  blocks. 
He's  a  sly  one.  He  thinks  more  of  a  cent  with  a  hole 
in  it  than  I  do  of  a  good  dinner.  He  hangs  around 
every  night  till  one  o'clock,  when  the  last  'bus  goes  up. 
He's  got  an  awful  grip  on  his  gold,  but  some  day  some- 
body'll  have  his  money  to  spend."  The  thought  of  it 
gave  an  extra  snap  to  the  whip. 

"He  does  look  pretty  old,  that's  a  fact." 

"Don't  you  worry  about  his  dying  off-hand.  His 
father  is  alive  now,  up  in  Delaware  county.  No,  sir; 
if  I  had  his  stamps  I  wouldn't  hang  around  nights  to 
catch  a  five-cent  fare.  When  he  finds  a  driver  short  a 
fare  he  docks  him  fifty  cents." 

"How  do  the  receipts  now  compare  with  the  ten- 
cent  days?" 

"We  do  more  than  double  the  business.  A  stage 
averages  $3  more  a  day  since  they  cut  down  to  five 
cents.  We  used  to  take  in  $6  or  $y,  and  now  we  count 
on  from  ^9  to  $11." 

It  requires  the  nicest  skill  to  drive  a  stage  on  Broad- 
way. Not  only  must  the  driver  guide  his  ponderous 
vehicle  safely  through  the  crowded  mass,  but  his  quick 
eye  must  be  all  over  the  street,  on  the  watch  for  pas- 
sengers, and  he  must  be  ready  to  stop  to  take  up  or 
let  them  down  at  any  moment,  and  in  such  a  manner 
as  will  not  block  the  already  crowded  street.  The  ease 
and  accuracy  with  which  a  stage  will  dart  through  a 
crowd  of  Broadway  vehicles,  never  colliding  with  or 
in  any  way  touching  them,  shows  that  Jehu  has  a  firm 
hand  and  a  quick  eye. 

The  stage  drivers  constitute  a  distinct  and  peculiar 
11 


162 


NEW  YORK. 


class.  Their  work  is  hard,  their  pay  small,  and  they 
show  signs  of  the  hard  lives  they  lead.  From  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning  until  midnight  they  are  coming 
and  going,  in  all  weathers  and  in  all  seasons— Sunday, 
on  which  day  the  stages  do  not  run,  being  their  only 
time  of  rest.  They  are  generally  middle-aged  men, 
and  some  are  far  advanced  in  years.  They  are  corpu- 
lent, heavy-limbed,  and  large-handed  men,  with  faces 
seasoned  by  the  weather,  to  which  they  are  constantly 
exposed;  and  when  on  their  feet,  walk  with  an  un- 
steady, rolling  gait,  caused  by  their  being  so  constantly 
on  the  box.  They  have  no  distinct  dress,  and  get 
themselves  up  according  to  their  own  fancies  ;  and  it 
must  be  confessed,  that  while  their  costumes  may  be 
Artistic,  they  are  ^  not  neat  or  attractive.  The  odor  of 
the  horse-blanket  clings  to  them  always.  The  ma- 
jority of  them  have  driven  their  routes  for  yeare,  and 
have  witnessed  all  the  changes  along  them  for  the  past 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years.  Some  have  been  on  the 
lines  longer,  and  have  seen  their  routes  gradually 
lengthen,  year  by  year,  as  the  city  has  grown  north- 
kvard.  They  can  tell  you  many  an  interesting  tale  of 
ihe  streets  through  which  you  pass,  for  the  local  his- 
tories of  these  thoroughfares  are  as  household  words  to 
them.  With  strangers  they  are  silent  and  uncommu- 
nicative, but  an  offer  of  a  chew  of  tobacco  or  a  cigar 
will  unseal  their  lips,  and  they  grow  eloquent  over  the 
hard  life  they  lead,  and  will  impart  to  you  more  inter- 
esting information  concerning  the  localities  through 
which  you  are  passing  than  you  -can  obtain  from  any 
other  source.  They  are  masters  of  the  science  of 
"chaffing,"  and  the  eloquence  with  which  they  assail 


LIFE  OF  A  STAGE  DRIVER.  163 

drivers  of  rival  lines  is  sublime  in  its  way.  They  suf- 
fer greatly  from  exposure  to  the  weather.  In  the  hot 
days  of  summer  they  protect  themselves  from  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  sun  by  large  cotton  umbrellas,  securely 
fastened  to  the  roof  of  the  vehicle  ;  but  it  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  for  them  to  fall  victims  to  sunstroke.  In 
the  winter,  when  the  snow  and  sleet  swirl  about  him, 
and  lash  his  face  and  head  with  their  pitiless  fury,  the 
driver  wraps  his  lower  limbs  in  a  mass  of  blankets, 
and  protects  the  rest  of  his  body  with  a  succession  of 
overcoats.  His  sufferings,  in  spite  of  these  precau- 
tions, are  often  terrible,  and  his  first  care,  upon  arriv- 
ing at  the  end  of  his  route,  is  to  hurry  to  the  nearest 
saloon  and  comfort  himself  with  a  tumblerful  of  hot 
whisky  or  gin.  Who  shall  blame  him?  Without  this, 
even  his  iron  constitution  would  be  powerless  to  with- 
stand the  terrible  exposure  to  which  he  is  subjected. 
Oftentimes  the  horses  will  drag  the  coach  into  the 
stable  in  the  midst  of  some  wild  winter  storm,  whih^ 
the  driver  sits  motionless  on  his  box.  The  stable  mer\ 
lift  him  down,  to  find  him  frozen  almost  stiff  Yet,  in 
spite  of  its  hardships,  the  life  has  a  fascination  for  Jehu. 
Once  a  stage  driver,  always  a  stage  driver,  is  the  motta 
of  the  craft,  and  it  would  be  a  powerful  inducement, 
indeed,  that  could  cause  him  to  surrender  the  rein:^ 
that  he  has  handled  so  long,  and  betake  himself  to 
some  other  mode  of  life.  He  fears  two  things  only — 
the  loss  of  his  place  on  the  box  and  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  stalwart  policemen  who  guard  the  most 
crowded  portions  of  Broadway.  He  submits  in  humble 
silence  to  the  reprimands,  and  meekly  and  promptly 
obeys  the  orders,  of  these  stern  guardians  of  the  street^ 


164 


NEW  YORK. 


for  well  he  knows  that  trouble  with  "the  cops'*  means 
a  month  for  him  on  "the  Island,"  and  probably  a  per- 
manent loss  of  place.  The  latter  would  be  ruin  to 
him.  He  has  no  other  resource,  is  fit  for  no  other  em- 
ployment. His  beggarly  wages  do  not  allow  him  to 
lay  up  any  money,  and  he  knows  he  must  stick  to  his 
box  as  long  as  he  can.  Fortunately  his  iron  constitu- 
tion enables  him  to  hold  his  place  far  on  into  old  age, 
and,  as  a  general  rule,  he  leaves  it  only  for  the. long 
rest  in  which  wages  can  avail  him  nothing. 

The  stage  drivers  have  a  Mutual  Benefit  Association, 
which  looks  after  them  when  they  are  sick  or  disabled. 
They  are  generally  a  healthy  set,  and  do  not  find  it 
necessary  to  call  on  the  Association  often. 


THE  CENTRE  OF  FASHION. 


165 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  FIFTH  AVENUE. 

»IFTH  AVENUE   THE   CENTRE  OF    FASHION    AND    WEALTH— DESCRIPTION    OF    THE  STREET—A 

GRAND  PANORAMA  LOWER  FIFTH   AVENUK— ENCROACHMENTS    OF    BUSINESS— FOURTEENTH 

STREET— THE    "  SWALLOW- TAIL"     DEMOCRACY— AMONG  THE  PIANO   MAKERS  CHICKERIN* 

HALL  CHURCHES  CLUBS   AND   ART   GALLERIES— TWENTY-THIRD   STREET  DELMONICO  S  

THE  ASTOR  RESIDENCES— STEWART'S  MARBLE  PALACE— A  REGION  OF  BROWN  STONE— UPPER 
FIFTH  AVENUE— THE  HOTELS — THE  CATHEDRAL — THE  VANDERBILT  MANSIONS — ALONG 
THE  CENTRAL  PARK— THE  LENOX  LIBRARY— THE  FIFTH  AVENUE  MAN*ONS— HOMES  OF 
WEALTH  AND  LUXURY — HOW  THEY  ARE  FITTED  UP — FIFTH  AVENUE  ON  NEW  YEAr's  NIGHT — 
LIFE  IN  FIFTH  AVENUE — THE  WHIRL  OF  DISSIPATION — WHATITCOSTS — THE  STRUGGLE  FOR 

SHOW  THE  "  NEWLY  RICH  "  DARK  SIDE   OF  FIFTH  AVENUE  LIFE  THE  SKELETONS  FIFTH 

AVENUE  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES — THE  CHILDREN — "  ALL  IS  NOT  GOLD  THAT  GUTTERS." 

Fifth  avenue  is  the  fashionable  street,  par  excellence, 
of  New  York.  It  commences  at  Washington  Square 
and  extends  to  the  Harlem  river,  a  distance  of  nearly 
six  miles,  and  is  a  broad,  well-paved,  and  superbly  built 
street  for  the  first  three  miles  of  its  course.  To  live 
and  die  in  a  Fifth  avenue  mansion  is  the  dearest  wish 
of  every  New  Yorker's  heart.  Though  the  lower 
squares  are  being  rapidly  encroached  upon  by  business 
edifices,  the  street  as  a  whole  maintains  its  character  as 
the  most  magnificent  avenue  of  residences  in  the  world. 
The  buildings  along  its  course  are  mainly  of  brown- 
stone,  though  in  the  upper  section,  near  the  Central 
Park,  marble  and  the  lighter-colored  stones  are  being 
used  with  pleasing  effect. 

The  avenue  begins  at  Waverly  Place,  the  northern 
boundary  of  Washington  Square,  and  runs  in  a  straight 
line  to  59th  street,  the  southern  boundary  of  the  Cen- 
tral Park,  after  which  it  skirts  the  eastern  side  of  the 
Park  to  iiothstreet.    At  120th  street  its  continuity 


166 


NEW  YORK. 


is  broken  by  Mount  Morris  Park,  around  which 
it  passes,  and  commences  again  at  124th  street, 
and  pursues  an  unbroken  line  to  the  Harlem  river. 
From  Washington  Square  to  the  Central  Park,  a  dis- 
tance of  three  miles,  it  is  built  up  solidly,  with  magnifi- 
cent residences,  splendid  hotels  and  imposing  churches. 
From  59th  street,  along  the  eastern  side,  it  is  being  built 
up  rapidly,  and  before  many  years  have  elapsed  this 
section  will  be  an  unbroken  line  of  buildinofs.  It  will  be 
a  very  pleasant  section,  too,  for  the  western  boundary 
of  the  street  will  be  the  open  expanse  of  the  Central 
Park,  and  the  occupants  of  the  houses  will  have  before 
them  one  of  the  loveliest  landscapes  in  the  world,  as  a 
source  of  perpetual  enjoyment.  From  the  upper  end 
of  the  park  to  Mount  Morris  there  are,  as  yet,  no  im- 
provements. Passing  Mount  Morris  and  entering  the 
Harlem  section  of  the  avenue,  we  find  it  rapidly  grow- 
ing, the  houses  here  being  equal  in  splendor  to  those 
below  or  opposite  the  park. 

Starting  on  our  tour  of  inspection  from  Washington 
Square,  we  find  the  first  blocks  of  the  avenue  occupied 
by  stately,  old-fashioned  mansions,  and  shaded  by  fine 
trees.  At  the  corner  of  Clinton  Place  is  the  Brevoort 
House,  one  of  the  most  exclusive  hostelries  of  the 
city,  and  largely  patronized  by  English  visitors.  At 
the  northwest  corner  of  loth  street  is  the  Episcopal 
Church  of  the  Ascension,  a  handsome  brownstone  struc- 
ture, and  on  the  southwest  corner  of  nth  street  is  the 
First  Presbyterian  Church,  equally  handsome,  and  also 
of  brownstone.  Fourteenth  street  h  a  busy,  bustling, 
thoroughfare  at  its  intersection  with  the  avenue,  and 
here  are  a  number  of  fashionable  ''Apartment  Houses,'* 


LOWER  FIFTH  AVENUE. 


167 


-which  form  quite  a  feature  of  the  avenue.  Here  the 
electric  lamps  begin,  and  extend  along  Fifth  avenue  to 
34th  street.  At  the  southwest  corner  of  15th  street  is 
the  splendid  building  of  the  Manhattan  Club.  This  is 
the  headquarters  of  what  is  known  in  New  York  as 
^'the  Swallow  Tail  Democracy,"  and  the  club  consists 
of  the  better  elements  of  the  Democratic  party.  Busi- 
ness is  largely  invading  this  section  of  the  avenue  ;  and 
here  are  the  warerooms  of  the  most  famous  piano 
makers,  such  as  Chickering,  Weber  and  Knabe.  The 
Chickerings  have  a  magnificent  hall  attached  to  their 
establishment,  which  is  used  for  concerts,  lectures,  and 
other  entertainments.  It  stands  on  the  northwest  cor- 
ner of  1 8th  street.  At  the  southeast  corner  of  19th 
street  is  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church,  for- 
merly in  charge  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  John  Hall.  At  the 
southwest  corner  of  21st  street  is  the  South  Reformed 
Dutch  Church,  a  beautiful  edifice  of  brownstone.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  21st  street  is  the  Union  Club,  generally 
known  as  "The  Rich  Man's  Club,"  since  it  embraces  a 
greater  aggregate  of  wealth  among  its  members  than 
any  club  in  the  city.  Across  the  avenue  is  the  Lotus 
Club,  the  chief  rendezvous  of  the  art  and  literary  pro- 
fessions. On  the  southwest  corner  of  2  2d  street  is 
Knoedler's  Art  Gallery^  a  branch  of  the  famous  estab- 
lishment of  Goupil  &  Co.,  of  Paris.  It  is  always  open 
to  visitors,  and  is  filled  with  an  interesting  collection  of 
works  of  art.  There  is  no  pleasanter  place  in  New 
York  in  which  to  pass  an  idle  hour. 

At  23d  street.  Fifth  avenue  crosses  Broadway,  and 
passing  along  the  western  side  of  Madison  Square  pur- 
sues its  northward  course.    On  the  left  is  the  Fifth 


168 


NEW  YORK. 


Avenue  Hotel,  with  the  magnificent  vista  of  Broadway 
extending  beyond  it,  and  on  the  right  is  Madison 
Square,  with  its  fine  trees  and  noble  statues.  The 
Worth  Monument,  already  described,  is  passed  on  the 
left,  and  at  the  corner  of  25th  street  is  the  New  York 
Club,  beyond  which  is"Delmonico's,"  extending  through 
the  block  to  Broadway.  At  the  southeast  corner  of 
27th  street  stands  the  Victoria  Hotel,  while  immedi- 
ately opposite,  occupying  the  entire  block  on  the  east 
side  of  the  avenue,  from  26th  to  27th  streets,  is  the 
Hotel  Brunswick,  well  known  for  its  splendid  restaur- 
ant and  high  prices.  Business  is  encroaching  upon  this 
portion  of  the  avenue,  and  bids  fair  to  monopolize  it  in 
a  few  years.  At  the  northwest  corner  of  29th  street  is 
a  handsome  church  of  white  granite,  belonging  to  the 
Dutch  Reformed  faith.  Its  tall  spire  is  surmounted  by 
a  gilt-wreathed  vane  in  the  shape  of  a  game  chicken, 
and  this  has  caused  irreverent  New  York  to  dub  the 
edifice  "the  Church  of  the  Holy  Rooster."  The  block  on 
the  west  side  of  the  avenue,  between  33d  and  34tli 
streets,  is  occupied  by  two  stately  brick  mansions,  one 
at  each  corner.  These  are  the  residences  of  John  Jacob 
and  William  Astor,  sons  of  the  late  William  B.  Astor. 
At  the  northwest  corner  of  34th  street  stands  the  mar- 
ble palace  of  the  late  A.  T.  Stewart,  now  the  residence 
of  his  widow.  Its  interior  decorations  and  arrange- 
ments are  sumptuous,  and  in  keeping  with  the  exterior. 
At  the  time  of  its  erection  it  was  regarded  as  the  most 
magnificent  in  the  New  World.  On  the  opposite  cor- 
ner is  a  noble  brownstone  mansion^  for  many  years 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Stewart.  "  We  are  now  in  a  re- 
gion of  an  unbroken  line  of  architectural  beauty;  hand- 


A  REGION  OF  BROWN  STONE. 


some  churches  and  mansions  abound,  and  the  wonderful 
changes  that  are  taking  place  in  the  upper  portion  of 
New  York  are  written  on  every  side.  Superb  mansions 
are  continually  being  pulled  down  to  make  way  for 
structures  still  more  palatial,  and  the  rage  for  surpass- 
ing each  other  in  the  splendor  of  their  domiciles  seems 
to  have  taken  possession  of  our  merchants,  bankers 
and  railroad  princes."  The  window  fronts  in  this  section 
of  the  avenue  present  a  pretty  sight  during  the  sum- 
mer months,  when  they  are  "decorated  with  tiled  flower 
boxes,  laden  with  a  perfect  glory  of  blooms  in  all  the 
colors  of  the  rainbow.  This  is  a  charming  charac- 
teristic of  the  leading  residence  streets  in  the  aristo- 
cratic portion  of  the  city,  and  speaks  volumes  for  the 
taste  and  love  of  beauty  inherent  even  among  those 
who  may  have  made  their  money  so  suddenly  as  to  be 
without  the  social  and  aesthetic  culture  which  makes 
wealth  the  most  enjoyable.  Fifth  avenue  is  exception- 
ally noticeable  for  this  lavish  display  of  flowers  on  the 
window  ledges,  that  seem  to  be  literally  blossoming 
out  of  the  brown  stone  a  little  distance  away." 

At  the  northwest  corner  of  35th  street  is  a  plain 
dwelling  of  brick,  with  light  stone  trimmings.  This 
was  the  residence  of  the  late  William  B.  Astor,  and 
here  he  died,  a  few  years  ago.  Immediately  across  the 
avenue  is  Christ  (Episcopal)  Church,  and  on  the  north- 
west corner  of  37th  street  is  the  Brick  (Presbyterian) 
Church,  for  so  many  years  under  the  pastoral  care  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Gardiner  Spring.  At  th^  northeast  cor- 
ner of  39th  street  is  the  new  building  of  the  Union 
League  Club,  a  palatial  structure,  and  the  most  per- 
fectly-appointed club-house  in  America,   The  west  side 


170 


NEW  YORK. 


of  the*  avenue,  from  40th  to  42 d  street,  is  occupied  by 
the  old  Distributing  Reservoir,  a  massive,  fortress-Hke 
structure,  of  stone,  from  the  summit  of  which  a  fine 
view  of  the  noble  thoroughfare  may  be  enjoyed.  Im- 
mediately opposite  is  Rutger's  College,  a  handsome 
castellated  structure  in  the  Gothic  style.  The  north- 
west corner  of  42d  street  is  occupied  by  "The  Flor- 
ence," the  finest  specimen  of  the  palatial  "Apartment 
House"  in  the  city,  and  a  noticeable  feature  of  the 
avenue.  The  northeast  corner  of  43d  street  is  occu- 
pied by  the  superb  Jewish  Temple  E-manu-el,  and 
diagonally  opposite,  on  the  southwest  corner  of  45  th. 
street,  is  the  Church  of  the  Divine  Paternity,  of  which 
the  late  Dr.  E.  W.  Chapin  was  for  many  years  the 
pastor.  Nearly  opposite,  between  45th  and  46th 
streets,  is  the  pretty  Church  of  the  Heavenly  Rest. 
On  the  east  side  of  the  avenue,  occupying  the  block 
from  47th  to  48th  streets,  is  the  massive  red-brick 
front  of  the  Windsor  Hotel,  one  of  the  most  elegant 
and  costly  houses  in  the  city.  Opposite,  on  the  north- 
west corner  of  4Sth  street,  is  the  Collegiate  Dutch  Re- 
formed Church,  an  elaborate  structure  of  brown  stone. 
At  the  southeast  corner  of  50th  street  is  "  The  Buck- 
ingham," a  fashionable  hotel,  built  upon  the  principle 
that  "land  is  cheap  up  stairs."  The  block  above,  from 
50th  to  51st  street,  is  taken  up  by  the  magnificent 
Cathedral  of  St.  Patrick.  This  is,  in  all  respects,  the 
most  superb  church  in  America.  It  is  built,  within  and 
without,  of  purQ  white  marble,  and  occupies  the  most 
commanding  position  on  the  avenue.  The  next  block, 
on  the  east  side,  from  51st  to  5 2d,  is  occupied  by  the 
Roman  Catholic  Male  Orphan  Asylum  and  its  grounds. 


UPPER  FIFTH  AVENUE. 


171 


The  block  on  the  west  side  of  the  avenue,  immediately 
opposite  the  Asylum,  contains  two  superb  mansions  of 
brown  stone,  connected  by  a  covered  gallery,  into 
which  the  main  entrance  leads.  On  the  northwest 
corner  of  5  2d  street  is  another  elegant  and  artistic 
mansion,  of  light  gray  stone,  elaborately  ornamented. 
These  are  the  famous  Vanderbilt  mansions,  and  con- 
stitute the  finest  residences  in  New  York.  At  the 
northwest  corner  of  53d  street  is  the  massive  brown- 
stone  Church  of  St.  Thomas  (Episcopal),  oae  of  the 
noblest  church  edifices  on  the  continent.  Between 
54th  and  55th  streets,  on  the  same  side  of  the  avenue, 
is  St.  Luke's  (Episcopal)  Hospital,  standing  in  the 
midst  of  handsomely  ornamented  grounds.  On  the 
northwest  corner  of  55th  street  is  another  of  the  grand 
churches  of  New  York.  It  is  built  of  brown  stone, 
with  a  lofty  spire,  and  belongs  to  the  Presbyterian 
faith.  It  is  under  the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
John  Hall,  one  of  the  most  eloquent  divines  of  the  day. 
At  the  northwest  corner  of  57th  street  is  a  large  man- 
sion of  red  brick,  with  gray  stone  trimmings,  the  prop- 
erty of  another  member  of  the  Vanderbilt  family.  A 
row  of  fine  houses,  of  white  marble,  occupies  the  block 
on  the  east  side,  from  57th  to  58th  streets. 

At  59th  street  the  avenue  reaches  the  Central  Park. 
It  is  handsomely  built  along  the  east  side  of  the  street 
for  a  considerable  distance,  and  new  houses  are  con- 
standy  going  up.  There  is  nothing  of  special  interest 
to  be  seen,  however,  until  70th  street  is  reached.  Here 
stands  the  Lenox  Library,  a  massive  building  of 
granite.  From  this  point  to  the  Harlem  River  the 
street  is  without  interest  apart  from  its  handsome  resi- 
dences. 


THE  FIFTH  AVENUE  PALACES. 


173 


The  principal  material  used  in  the  construction  of  the 
buildings  on  the  avenue  is  brown  stone.  This  gives  to 
the  street  a  sombre  look,  but  of  late  years,  white  mar- 
ble, brick,  and  the  lighter-colored  stones  have  been 
used  to  a  great  extent,  and  the  upper  portion  of  the 
avenue  presents  *a  much  lighter  and  more  attractive 
appearance  than  the  regions  below  it.  In  spite  of  the 
general  uniformity  of  the  street,  however,  it  is  a  grand 
sight  upon  which  the  eye  rests  from  any  point  of  view. 

The  interior  of  the  houses  is  in  keeping  with  their 
external  grandeur.  They  are  decorated  in  magnificent 
style  by  artists  of  ability  and  taste,  and  are  furnished 
in  the  most  superb  and  costly  manner.  Rare  and 
valuable  works  of  art  abound  in  all,  and  everything  that 
luxury  can  devise  or  wealth  provide  is  here  in  abund- 
ance. The  softest  and  richest  carpets  cover  the  floors 
and  deaden  every  foot  fall,  the  windows  are  draped 
with  curtains  the  cost  of  which  would  provide  an 
average  family  with  a  home  in  other  cities,  and  which  shut 
out  the  bright  daylight  and  give  to  the  apartments  a 
soft,  luxurious  glow;  costly  chandeliers  shed  a  flood  of 
warm  light  through  the  elegantly  furnished  rooms,  and 
through  the  half  open  doors  you  may  catch  a  view  of 
the  library,  with  its  rows  of  daintily  bound  books  in 
elaborate  cases,  its  works  of  art  scattered  about  in 
tasteful  negligence,  and  its  rich  and  cosy  furniture.* 
The  "  Library"  forms  quite  a  feature  in  a  Fifth  avenue 
mansion.  Whether  the  books  are  read  or  not,  it  is  the 
correct  thing  to  have.  The  chambers  and  upper  rooms 
are  furnished  with  equal  magnificence,  the  cost  of  fitting 
up  one  of  these  houses  sometimes  exceeding  the 
amount  paid  for  the  building.  Everything  is  perfect  in  its 


174 


NEW  YORK. 


way,  each  appointment  being  the  most  sumptuous  that 
wealth  can  purchase.  Some  of  these  mansions  are 
furnished  with  rare  taste  and  good  judgment,  but 
many,  on  the  other  hand,  are  simply  vast  collections  of 
flashy  and  costly  furniture  and  decorations,  their  own- 
ers lacking  the  culture  necessary  to  make  a  proper  dis- 
position of  their  riches.  There  is  no  more  attractive 
sight  to  the  stranger  in  New  York  than  a  stroll  along 
Fifth  avenue  about  dusk  on  New  Year's  Day.  It  is  the 
custom  of  those  who  receive  calls  on  that  day  to  leave 
window  curtains  partly  drawn,  and  through  these  open- 
ings one  can  see  the  richly  furnished,  brightly  lighted 
drawing  rooms,  with  their  elegantly  dressed  occupants, 
and  can  thus  enjoy  a  succession  of  "pictures  from  life" 
unequaled  in  any  part  of  the  world. 

The  dwellers  in  the  Fifth  avenue  mansions  represent 
all  the  various  phases  of  the  wealthier  class  of  New 
York.  You  will  find  here  many  persons  whose  fortunes 
are  so  secure  and  great  that  they  can  amply  afford  the 
style  in  which  they  live ;  and  also  many  who  are  sacri- 
ficing everything  in  order  to  shine  for  awhile  in  such 
splendor.  Men  make  money  very  quickly  in  New 
York.  A  Fifth  avenue  mansion  is  either  purchased  or 
rented,  and  then  commences  a  life  of  fashion  and  dis- 
sipation to  which  neither  they  nor  their  families  are 
accustomed.  Everything  is  sacrificed  to  maintain  their 
newly  gained  position  ;  money  flows  like  water ;  the 
recently  gotten  wealth  vanishes,  and  in  a  few  years 
the  family  disappears  from  the  avenue,  to  begin  life 
anew  in  an  humbler  sphere.  The  history  of  the  street 
abounds  in  such  cases.  No  wonder  so  many  men  liv- 
ing in  these  palaces  have  weary,  careworn  faces,  rest 


THE  DWELLERS  ON  FIFTH  AVENUE. 


175 


less  glances,  and  quick,  nervous  ways.  The  strain  they 
are  living  under  to  keep  their  places  in  the  avenue  is 
too  great.  They  are  not  able  to  keep  pace  with  those 
whose  firmly-secured  millions  justify  them  in  a  lavish 
style  of  living,  and  they  know  it.  They  dread  the  day 
that  must  inevitably  come,  when  they  must  leave  all 
this  luxury  behind  them  and  go  out  into  the  world 
again  to  begin  life  anew.  Even  if  they  maintain  their 
places,  they  cannot  resist  the  conviction  that  their  splen- 
dor has  been  bought  at  too  dear  a  price. 

The  avenue  mansions  contain  many  families  of  wealth 
and  culture,  many  whose  names  have  been  household 
words  in  New  York  for  generations.  These  live  elegantly, 
and  in  proportion  to  their  means,  but  avoid  show  and 
vulgar  display.  They* are  courtly  in  manner,  hospit- 
able and  warm-hearted,  and  constitute  fine  specimens 
of  the  cultured  American.  They  do  not  make  up  the 
majority  of  the  dwellers  in  the  avenue,  however.  These 
latter  represent  mainly  the  newly  rich  families,  that 
have  risen  to  affluence  through  the  lucky  ventures  of 
the  husband  and  father,  and  have  come  to  their  new 
honors  without  the  refinement  or  culture  necessary  to 
sustain  them  with  dignity.  You  may  know  them  by 
their  loud  voices,  vulgar  countenances,  flashy  dressing, 
and  coarse  ways.  They  plunge  headlong  into  the  dis- 
sipations of  society  with  a  recklessness  unknown  to 
persons  accustomed  to  such  pleasures,  and  their  fast 
life  soon  tells  upon  them.  The  men  go  to  their  busi- 
ness heavy  and  jaded  in  the  morning,  after  a  night  of 
fashionable  dissipation,  and  the  women  sink  into  an 
indolence  from  which  nothing  can  rouse  them  save  a 
renewal  of  the  excesses  which  caused  their  lassitude. 


176 


NEW  YORK. 


They  greatly  err  who  imagine  that  the  possessor  of 
a  Fifth  avenue  mansion  is,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  be 
envied.  These  splendid  palaces  hide  many  aching 
hearts,  and  could  tell  many  a  tale  of  sorrow,  and  even 
of  shame,  could  they  speak.  The  master  of  the  house 
goes  often  to  his  business  in  the  morning  with  knit 
brows  and  a  tragedy  lurking  in  his  heart,  and  returns 
with  reluctant  steps  to  his  splendid  palace  in  the  even- 
ing ;  and  madame,  for  all  her  gorgeous  surroundings^ 
fails  to  wear  a  happy  or  contented  look,  and  sighs  as 
she  thinks  of  the  price  she  has  paid  for  such  luxury. 
Generally  the  skeleton  is  kept  securely  within  the 
closet,  but  sometimes  it  will  break  forth,  and  then 
Fifth  avenue  is  startled  for  a  moment  by  its  revelations. 
Sometimes  the  scandal  is  hushed  up,  but  frequently  the 
divorce  courts  are  called  in  to  straighten  matters  out. 

One  does  not  see  home  life  in  its  truest  sense  in  the 
avenue.  The  demands  of  fashion  are  too  exacting  to 
permit  an  indulgence  in  this  richest  of  pleasures.  Day 
and  night  are  spent  in  a  ceaseless  whirl  of  gayety,  and 
in  many  cases  the  only  times  husband  and  wife  are 
really  in  their  home  for  more  than  a  few  hours  at  a 
time,  is  when  their  parlors  are  crowded  with  guests  in 
attendance  upon  some  grand  entertainment  given  by 
them.  Thus  it  happens  that  they  lead  different  lives, 
with  but  little  common  interest  between  them.  The 
husband  has  his  "  affinity,"  and  seeks  in  her  society  the 
pleasures  his  wife  will  not  share  with  him  ;  and  madame 
has  her  "lovers,"  who  are  as  much  of  a  grief  as  a  happi- 
ness to  her,  as  she  lives  in  constant  terror  of  being 
compromised.  Fortunately,  children  are  scarce  in  the 
avenue  ;  the  necessities  of  fashion  forbid  large  families. 


FIFTH  AVENUE  CHILDREN. 


177 


Such  as  come  receive  little  of  a  mother's  care  until  they 
are  old  enough  to  be  put  on  exhibition,  to  accompany 
^' mamma"  in  a  drive  through  the  Park,  or  to  occupy 
the  front  seats  of  the  opera-box,  when  they  should  be 
soundly  sleeping  in  their  beds.  They  are  dressed  to 
death,  are  always  in  charge  of  a  maid  when  out  for  a 
walk,  and  know  little  of  the  pure,  free  joys  of  child- 
hood. So  they  grow  up  to  be  premature  men  and 
women,  fitted  only  to  imitate  the  follies,  and,  alas,  too 
often  to  repeat  the  bitter  experience  of  their  parents. 

After  all,  in  spite  of  its  splendor,  in  spite  of  its  wealth, 
and  its  mad  round  of  pleasures,  Fifth  avenue  does  not 
hold  the  happiest  homes  in  New  York.  You  can  see 
the  glare  and  the  glitter  of  the  false  metal  all  around 
you  ;  but  if  you  would  find  the  pure  gold  of  domestic 
happiness,  you  must  seek  it  in  more  modest  sections 
of  the  great  city. 


178 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  ELEVATED  RAILROADS. 

tWCONVENlENCES  OF   OLD-STYLE   TRAVEL — PLANS   FOR   RAPID  TRANSIT— THE   FIRST  ELEVATEm 

RAILROAD — THE  PRESENT  SYSTEM — THE  METROPOLITAN  AND  NEW  YORK  ELEVATED  ROADS  

THE  MANHATTAN  COMPANY — DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ROADS — HOW  THEY  ARE  BUILT — MODE  OF 
OPERATIONS — STATIONS — EMPLOYEES — RAPID  TRAINS — ADVANTAGES  OF  THE  SYSTEM — IT* 
DRAWBACKS — IMMENSE  TRAFFIC — RESULTS  OF  THE  ELEVATED  SYSTEM — RAPID  GROWTH  OF 
THE  UPPER  PART  OF  THE  CITY — A  RIDE  ON  THE  ELEVATED  RAILROADS — THE  NIGHT  TRAINS 
— FROM  THE  BATTERY  TO  HARLEM  BY  NIGHT. 

The  peculiar  conformation  of  Manhattan  Island  ren- 
dered it  impossible  for  New  York  to  grow  but  in  one 
direction — from  south  to  north.  As  the  lower  portions 
of  the  city  were  taken  for  business  purposes,  the  popu- 
lation moved  northward.  In  the  course  of  time  this 
state  of  affairs  came  about:  the  majority  of  the  dwellers 
in  the  city  had  their  places  of  business  down  town,  at 
a  distance  of  several  miles  from  their  residences.  To 
reach  the  former  in  the  morning,  and  return  to  the  lat- 
ter in  the  afternoon,  they  were  dependent  upon  the 
horse-cars  and  stages.  These  trips  consumed  a  great 
deal  of  time,  and  imposed  upon  the  people  an  immense 
amount  of  fatigue.  Early  in  the  morning  and  late  in 
the  evening  the  cars  and  stages  were  crowded,  so  that 
often  the  entire  journey  had  to  be  made  standing ;  the 
vehicles  were  dirty  and  badly  ventilated,  and  every 
discomfort  was  encountered.  During  heavy  snows, 
hours  would  be  sometimes  consumed  in  making  the 
journey,  and  at  all  times  street  blockades  caused  the 
loss  of  much  valuable  time.  Altogether,  the  whole 
system  of  street  travel  was  badly  arranged,  uncom- 


THE  FIRST  ELEVATED  RAILROAD.  179 

fortable,  and  entirely  unsuited  to  the  needs  of  a  city 
like  New  York. 

This  led  to  many  plans  for  "  rapid  transit that  is, 
for  a  system  of  roads  running"  the  length  of  the  city, 
and  operated  by  steam,  which  should  shorten  the  time 
between  given  points  and  increase  the  comforts  of  the 
traveler.  At  first  these  plans  were  for  underground 
roads,  but  they  were  rejected  almost  as  fast  as  pro- 
posed, as  it  was  found  that  they  would  cost  several 
million  dollars  per  mile,  and  require  a  generation 
for  their  construction.  After  various  other  plans  had 
been  proposed,  a  company  was  chartered  and  began 
the  construction  of  an  elevated  railroad  on  Green- 
wich street  and  Ninth  avenue,  from  the  Battery  to  the 
Central  Park.  It  was  proposed  to  operate  the  road 
by  means  of  an  endless  wire  rope,  worked  by  station- 
ary engines  at  stated  points  along  the  line.  This 
proved  a  failure,  however ;  the  endless  ropes  would  not 
work,  and  the  stationary  engines  had  to  be  abandoned. 
The  road  was  then  strengthened,  dummy  engines 
placed  on  it,  and  about  1870  it  was  opened  for  travel. 
After  experiencing  various  changes  of  fortune  it  passed 
into  the  hands  of  the  New  York  Elevated  Railroad 
Company,  and  has  since  been  rebuilt  and  strength- 
ened. It  now  forms  a  part  of  the  western  division  of 
the  New  York  Elevated  Railroad. 

The  next  project  was  the  Metropolitan  Elevated 
Railroad,  to  run  from  Rector  and  New  Church  streets, 
by  College  Place,  West  Broadway,  South  Fifth  avenue, 
Amity  street  and  Sixth  avenue  to  the  Central  Park. 
This  scheme  encountered  a  great  deal  of  opposition 
from  property  holders  along  the  route,  but  this  was  at 


180 


NEW  YORK. 


last  overcome,  the  road  was  built,  and  was  opened  for 
travel  about  three  years  ago. 

At  present  there  are  four  lines  of  Elevated  Roads 
in  successful  operation  in  New  York.  These  are  the 
Sixth  and  Second  avenue  lines,  belonging  to  the  Metro- 
politan Elevated  Railroad  Company ;  and  the  Third  and 
Ninth  avenue  lines,  belonging  to  the  New  York  Eleva- 
ted Railroad  Company.  They  all  run  from  south  to 
north,  in  the  direction  of  the  length  of  the  city.  Both 
of  the  above  named  companies  have  leased  their  lines 
to  the  Manhattan  Elevated  Railroad  Company,  and  all 
the  Knes  are  thus  consolidated  under  one  management. 

The  Metropolitan  Elevated  Road  begins  at  Rector 
street,  in  the  rear  of  Trinity  Church,  and  pursues  the 
following  route:  Along  New  Church,  Church  and  Mur- 
ray streets  to  College  Place,  thence  to  West  Broadway, 
to  South  Fifth  avenue,  which  it  follows  to  Amity  street, 
along  Amity  street  to  Sixth  avenue,  and  along  Sixth 
avenue  to  59th  street  and  the  Central  Park.  At  53d 
street  a  branch  leads  off  to  Ninth  avenue,  along  which 
the  line  is  carried  to  i  loth  street,  where  it  crosses  to 
Eighth  avenue,  and  continues  along  that  street  to  the 
Harlem  River  at  1 55th  street.  Here  a  bridge  over  the 
river  enables  the  road  to  connect  with  the  "New  York 
City  and  Northern  Road,"  for  High  Bridge,  Fordham, 
and  other  points  on  the  mainland.  The  latter  road 
will  eventually  be  carried  through  to  Yonkers  and  Tar- 
rytown,  and  will  thus  form,  with  the  Elevated  Road,  a 
direct  route  from  the  lower  part  of  New  York  to  the 
pleasantest  points  on  the  Hudson  River. 

The  Metropolitan  Road  occupies  the  centre  of  the 
streets  it  traverses,  and  is  built  in  the  most  substantial 


THE  METROPOLITAN  ELEVATED  RAILROAD.  181 

manner,  combining  both  lightness  and  solidity.  The 
foundations  for  the  supports  are  laid  in  concrete,  stone, 
and  brick  work.  Four  long  rods  pass  up  through  the 
heavy  foundation  stones,  and  around  these  is  built  up 
the  brick  work,  inclining  gradually  inward  from  the  base 
to  the  top.  The  rods  extend  several  inches  above  the 
brickwork,  and  fit  into  holes  at  the  four  corners  of  the 
heavy  iron  castings,  in  which  are  the  sockets  for  the 
reception  of  the  supporting  columns.  These  castings 
are  secured  to  the  rods  by  means  of  screw  nuts.  The 
columns,  light  in  appearance,  are  calculated  to  bear 
a  strain  more  than  double  that  to  which  they  are  sub- 
jected, so  that  the  margin  of  safety  is  large.  Stout  iron 
girders  are  laid  across  the  street  from  column  to  col- 
umn, and  these  are  joined  and  strengthened  by  stays 
and  beams  of  iron  running  in  every  direction.  Above 
this  is  built  the  road  bed,  also  of  iron,  firmly  fastened 
together  and  strengthened  in  every  possible  manner, 
and  on  this  is  laid  the  road,  consisting  of  a  double  track 
of  steel  rails.  The  whole  structure  forms  a  sort  of 
arcade  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  above  the  tracks  of 
the  horse  railways.  It  seems  a  light  and  graceful 
affair,  and,  when  viewed  from  below,  appears  scarcely 
capable  of  sustaining  the  immense  strain  put  upon  it. 
As  a  general  rule  the  roadway  is  on  a  level  with  the 
second-story  windows  of  the  houses  by  which  it  passes. 
At  I  loth  street,  however,  it  reaches  the  height  of  sixty- 
three  feet,  and  presents  one  of  the  most  audacious  and 
skillful  specimens  of  engineering  to  be  found  on  the 
globe.  It  makes  a  gigantic  curve  here,  from  Ninth  to 
Eighth  avenue,  and  from  the  street  the  trains  passing 
«V€r  it  seem  to  be  running  in  mid  air.    Even  the  cool- 


182 


NEW  YORK. 


est  person  cannot  resist  a  feeling  of  nervousness  in 
passing  over  this  portion  of  the  road  for  the  first  time. 
Massive  as  it  is,  the  structure  seems  too  Hght  for  its  pur- 
poses ;  but  it  stands  firm  and  unshaken,  and  trains  rattle 
over  it  daily  with  scarcely  a  jar. 

The  stations  along  the  route  are  of  iron,  and  are 
painted  a  light  and  dainty  green.  They  are  fitted  up 
in  elegant  style,  and  are  provided  with  every  conveni- 
ence for  passengers  and  the  employees  of  the  road. 
They  were  designed  by  the  celebrated  landscape 
artist,  J.  F.  Cropsey,  and  are  tasteful  cottages,  provided 
with  ticket  offices,  waiting  rooms  for  gentlemen  and 
ladies,  and  toilet  conveniences  for  each.  They  are 
lighted  with  gas,  as  are  also  the  platforms,  and  in  winter 
are  heated.  The  platforms  extend  beyond  the  station 
houses  at  each  end,  and  are  covered  with  a  light  and 
graceful  iron  pavilion  roof.  -  The  stations  are  reached 
from  the  street  by  light  iron  stairways  enclosed  at  the 
side  and  roofed  over.  The  up  stations  are  on  the  east 
side  of  the  streets,  and  the  down  stations  on  the  west 
side.  Passengers  purchase  their  tickets  at  the  ofiice  on 
entering  the  station,  and  drop  them  in  a  patent  box  in 
charge  of  an  attendant  upon  passing  out  on  the  plat- 
form. 

The  equipment  of  the  road  is  excellent.  The  cars 
are  built  after  the  style  of  the  Pullman  palace  cars. 
The  seats  have  spring  cushions,  and  are  placed  two  by 
two  in  the  centre  of  the  car  at  each  side  of  the  passage- 
way; at  the  ends  they  are  ranged  longitudinally  around 
the  car,  thus  affording  ample  space  near  the  doors  for 
the  ingress  and  egress  of  passengers.  The  windows 
are  unusually  large,  are  of  plate  glass,  and  are  provided 


EQUIPMENT  OF  THE  METROPOLITAN  LINE.  183 

with  adjustable  rep  blinds.  The  cars  are  painted  a 
delicate  shade  of  green,  and  are  among  the  handsomest 
to  be  found  on  any  road  in  the  Union.  The  platforms 
are  enclosed  with  iron  balustrades,  with  gates  at  the 
sides.  The  locomotives  used  are  small  and  of  a  pecu- 
liar construction.  They  make  an  average  speed  of 
twelve  miles  an  hour,  including  stoppages.  All  trains 
are  provided  with  air-brakes,  and  can  be  stopped  in  a 
little  more  than  their  own  length.  The  road  is  operated 
by  means  of  electric  signals,  and  every  precaution  for 
safety  is  taken. 

The  conductors  and  brakemen  are  handsomely 
uniformed,  as  are  also  the  attendants  at  the  stations. 
They  are  dressed  in  blue  flannel  or  cloth,  with  orna- 
mental braidings  on  the  shoulders,  brass  buttons  on  the 
coat  and  vest,  and  cap  encircled  with  two  gold  cords 
and  marked  with  silver  letters  in  front  above  the  peak, 
with  the  title,  ''conductor,"  "brakeman,"  etc.  They 
have  an  air  of  extreme  importance,  and  hustle  passen- 
gers on  and  off  the  trains  with  a  haste  that  amounts  to 
recklessness,  and  which  has,  in  more  than  one  instance, 
led  to  serious  accidents.  It  is  said  that  many  of  the 
employees  of  this  company  were  appointed  for  political 
reasons,  and  have  had  but  little  experience  as  railroad 
men. 

The  Second  avenue  line  is  owned  by  the  Metropoli- 
tan Company,  and  is  built  in  a  manner  similar  to  the 
Sixth  avenue  road.  Its  trains  start  from  the  South 
Ferry,  and  run  through  Pearl  and  Fulton  streets  and 
Franklin  Square  to  Chatham  Square,  the  junction  of 
the  Third  avenue  line ;  thence  through  Division  street 
to  First  avenue,  along  that   avenue  to  23d  street. 


184 


NEW  YORK. 


through  23d  street  west  to  Second  avenue,  and  along 
that  street  to  the  Harlem  river.  It  is  proposed  to 
bridge  the  river  at  this  point  and  extend  the  road  into 
Westchester  county.  Passengers  by  this  line  are 
transferred  to  the  Third  avenue  line  at  Chatham  Square 
without  extra  charge.  In  its  equipment  and  manage- 
ment it  is  similar  to  the  Sixth  avenue  line. 

The  Ninth  Avenue  Line  is  owned  by  the  New  York 
Elevated  Railroad  Company.  It  is  built  on  columns 
of  iron  set  in  concrete  and  masonry  along  the  outer 
edge  of  the  sidewalk  on  each  side  of  the  streets  it 
traverses.  These  columns  are  connected  by  stout  iron 
girders,  and  the  structure,  although  so  light  in  appear- 
ance,-is  as  soHd  and  firm  as  could  be  desired.  It  begins 
at  the  South  Ferry,  and  runs  across  the  Battery  Park 
to  Greenwich  street,  along  which  it  continues  to  14th 
street,  where  it  enters  Ninth  avenue,  and  follows  the 
line  of  that  street  to  59th  street,  where  it  joins  the 
extension  of  the  Metropolitan  Road.  Passengers  going 
above  59th  street  are  transferred  to  the  Metropolitan 
cars  without  extra  charge.  The  road  runs,  as  has  been 
said,  along  the  sidewalks  on  each  side  of  the  street,  the 
middle  of  the  street  being  thus  unobstructe-d.  The 
cars  of  this  line  are  painted  a  handsome  brown  color, 
very  much  like  those  of  the  Pennsylvania  Road,  and 
though  neatly  upholstered  and  decorated  are  not  as 
ornamental  as  those  of  the  Sixth  avenue  line. 

The  Third  avenue  line  is  also  owned  by  the  New 
York  Elevated  Railroad  Company.  It  commences  at 
the  City  Hall,  immediately  opposite  to  the  stone  cause- 
way of  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  and  runs  direct  to  Chat- 
ham Square,  and  thence  by  the  Bowery  and  Third 


THE  THIRD  AVENUE  LINE. 


185 


avenue  to  the  Harlem  River  at  129th  street.  At  4.26. 
street  a  branch  diverges  westward  to  the  Grand  Cen- 
tral Depot.  It  is  built  on  rows  of  pillars,  like  the  Ninth 
avenue  road,  and  varies  according  to  the  character  of 
the  street  in  which  it  is  located.  The  Bowery  being 
wide  the  tracks  are  carried  on  separate  pillars  on  each 
side  of  the  street;  while  on  Third  avenue  they  are 
erected  upon  lines  of  columns  at  each  side  of  the  street 
car  tracks,  and  connected  at  the  top  by  light,  open 
elliptic  arch  girders. 

The  cars  on  this  line  resemble  those  of  the  Ninth 
avenue  road.  The  officials  are  uniformed  like  those 
of  the  Sixth  avenue  line,  and  are,  as  a  rule,  more  effi- 
cient men.  The  New  York  Elevated  made  it  its  busi- 
ness at  the  outset  to  secure  men  who  were  thoroughly 
accustomed  to  railroading,  and  who  knew  their  duties. 
The  stations  on  the  Ninth  and  Third  Avenue  lines  are 
alike  in  design.  They  are  smaller  than  those  of  the 
Sixth  Avenue  line,  but  are  very  handsome,  are  con- 
structed of  ornamental  iron,  and  are  reached  from  the 
street  by  stairways. 

From  five  o'clock  until  seven  in  the  morning,  and 
during  the  same  hours  of  the  evening,  the  fare  on  all 
the  lines  is  five  cents;  at  all  other  times  it  is  ten  cents. 

There  is  no  pleasanter  way  of  seeing  New  York 
than  from  the  elevated  railways.  The  following  trip, 
which  may  be  made  within  three  hours,  will  show  the 
visitor  more  of  the  great  city  than  can  be  seen  in  two 
days  by  any  other  means:  Take  the  Third  avenue 
line  at  the  City  Hall  and  ride  to  130th  street — the  Har- 
lem river.  It  is  but  a  step  from  the  station  to  the  land- 
ing of  the  East  river  steamers.    Embark  on  one  of 


186 


NEW  YORK. 


these  and  ride  to  the  end  of  the  route,  at  Peck  Slip, 
near  the  Fulton  Ferry,  on  the  East  river.  The  sail 
down  the  river  is  superb.  A  short  walk  along  South 
street,  from  Peck  Slip,  brings  the  traveler  to  the  ter- 
minus of  the  West  Side  Elevated  Road  at  the  South 
Ferry.  Take  the  Ninth  avenue  line  here  and  ride  to 
155th  street.  Return  by  the  Sixth  avenue  line,  and 
ride  to  the  terminus  at  Rector  street.  This  leaves  out 
the  Second  avenue  line,  but  the  Third  avenue  road 
commands  very  much  the  same  view,  and  nothing  of 
importance  is  lost. 

The  elevated  roads  have  been  of  the  greatest  ser- 
vice to  New  York,  in  spite  of  the  complaints  that  they 
have  injured  property  along  their  lines.  The  question  of 
damage  is  still  an  open  one,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  problem  of  rapid  transit  has  been  effectually 
and  quickly  solved.  Travelers  are  independent  now 
of  the  weather.  The  trains  run  on  time  and  with  ease 
in  the  heaviest  snow  storms,  blockades  are  impossible, 
and  time  is  saved  and  comfort  secured  to  the  passen- 
ger. In  good  weather  and  with  a  clear  track  the  horse- 
cars  took  from  three-quarters  of  an  hour  to  fifty  min- 
utes from  59th  street  to  the  City  Hall.  The  elevated 
trains  make  the  same  distance  now  in  twenty-eight 
minutes,  including  stoppages.  The  Metropolitan  Road 
runs  over  1000  trains  a  day,  and  the  New  York  Ele- 
vated about  900,  making  between  1900  and  2000  in  all. 
An  average  train  on  either  road  in  the  busy  hours  will 
carry  350  passengers  on  the  round  trip. 

Great  complaints  were  made,  at  first  of  the  noise  ^ 
made  by  the  trains  passing  over  the  roads,  but  these 
are  not  so  numerous  now  as  formerly.    The  peculiar 


OVERCROWDING  OF  TRAINS.  187 

construction  of  the  New  York  Elevated  Company's 
lines  renders  them  less  noisy  than  those  of  the  Metro- 
politan Company.  The  posts  of  the  latter  roads  are 
hollow  tubes  of  boiler-iron,  and  each  possesses  the  re- 
sonant qualities  of  a  drum.  On  the  New  York  Com- 
pany's roads  the  posts  are  open  ones,  two  sides  of  each 
being  made  of  stout  lattice-work,  and  give  forth  less 
sound. 

During  the  five-cent  hours  the  trains  on  all  the  lines 
are  crowded,  the  seats,  aisles,  and  even  the  platforms 
being  filled  to  their  fullest  capacity. "  The  station  plat- 
forms are  black  with  a  struggling  crowd,  each  indivi- 
dual of  which  is  striving  with  all  his  powers  to  be  the 
first  on  the  train  when  it  arrives.  At  such  times  the 
jam  is  dangerous.  The  seats  are  usually  occupied  be- 
fore the  train  leaves  the  end  of  the  line,  and  the  throngs 
who  wait  at  the  way  stations  rush  on  board  only  to  find 
standing  room,  and  sometimes  hardly  that.  Passengers 
leaving  the  trains  at  such  stations  have  literally  to  fight 
their  way  out  of  the  cars,  and  the  stop  is  so  brief  that  they 
are  often  carried  one  or  two  stations  beyond  their  desti- 
nation before  they  can  reach  the  platform  of  the  car.  The 
conductors  crowd  as  many  into  a  car  as  can  be  packed 
into  it  during  these  hours,  and  the  air  soon  becomes  foul, 
and  the  danger  of  contracting  contagious  or  infectious 
diseases,  from  being  jammed  in  too  closely  with  all  sorts 
of  people,  is  very  great.  Trains  often  start  while  pas- 
sengers are  in  the  act  of  getting  on  board,  and  men  are 
frequently  dragged  some  distance  before  they  can  be 
rescued  from  their  perilous  positions.  The  dense 
throngs  on  the  narrow  platforms  of  the  stations  afford 
Si  rich  harvest  for  pickpockets,  and  a  free  field  for  bul- 


188 


NEW  YORK. 


lies  and  ruffians,  When  the  platforms  are  so  heavily 
crowded  there  is  actual  danger  of  being  pushed  over  into 
the  street,  or  under  the  wheels  of  the  approaching  trains. 
The  over-crowded  trains  which  run  so  frequently  dur- 
ing the  five-cent,  or  "commission  "  hours,  are  exceed- 
ingly liable  to  accident.  Engines  not  infrequently  be- 
come disabled,  causing  the  train  to  stop,  and  at  such 
times  there  is  danger  of  one  of  the  rear  trains  crashing 
into  the  disabled  one.  Should  the  breaks  of  the  rear 
train  give  way  such  a  disaster  would  be  inevitable. 
Several  accidents  have  occurred,  and  serious  collisions 
have  taken  place.  It  is  urged  that  a  reduction  of  the 
fare  to  five  cents  at  all  hours  would  remedy  the  trouble, 
and  that  such  crowds  would  not  collect  for  the  early 
and  late  trains  if  the  fare  were  the  same  at  all  hours. 

Such  are  some  of  the  drawbacks  to  the  system;  but 
tt  cannot  be  denied  that  these  roads  are,  on  the  whole, 
a  great  gain  for  the  city.  The  upper  sections  of  the 
Island  being  brought  within  rapid  and  easy  reach  of  the 
business  quarters  are  attracting  large  numbers  of 
kihabitants,  and  property  is  rapidly  appreciating  in 
value  above  and  along  the  Central  Park.  Many  per- 
sons who  were  forced  to  live  in  Brooklyn  or  some  other 
suburb,  are  returning  to  the  city,  and  taking  houses  in 
Harlem  and  the  neighboring  localities,  and  it  is  confi- 
dently expected  that  a  few  years  will  see  a  vast  change 
for  the  better  in  this  section  of  the  city — thanks  to  the 
facilities  offered  by  the  Elevated  Roads.  In  the  first 
place  the  city  will  push  its  grand  streets  and  its  rows 
of  substantial  dwellings  rapidly  northward  until  the 
Park  is  surrounded  with  a  tolerably  dense  population. 
In  a  few  years  the  fine  country  seats  on  the  west  side, 


INFLUENCE  OF  ELEVATED  ROADS.  189 


as  far  up  as  Washington  Heights,  will  have  to  give 
place  to  solid  blocks  of  brick  and  brownstone,  because 
the  land  will  become  too  valuable  to  be  used  for  lawns 
and  gardens,  and  by  the  end  of  the  century  those  who 
are  now  living  may  expect  to  see  the  whole  of  the 
upper  part  of  Manhattan  Island  as  closely  built  over 
as  are  now  the  districts  immediately  below  the  Park. 
Of  course  this  rapid  increase  will  not  proceed  from  the 
ordinary  process  of  a  city's  growth.  Thousands  of 
people  who  have  taken  refuge  in  the  suburban  towns 
to  secure  cheap  rents  and  to  avoid  the  miseries  of  street 
car  travel,  will  return  to  New  York.  It  will  be  a  great 
deal  more  comfortable  to  step  into  a  train  a  few  block** 
from  the  City  Hall  and  be  whirled  in  half  an  hour  up 
to  looth  street,  than  to  w^alk  to  a  ferry,  wait  five  or 
ten  minutes  for  a  boat,  submit  to  the  jostling  crowds, 
and  occasionally  miss  a  train  on  the  other  side  of  the. 
river.  Added  to  the  inducements  to  draw  people  from 
the  suburbs  back  to  the  city  will  be  the  facility  foK'. 
attending  evening  amusements,  for  hearing  good  Sun 
day  sermons,  and  for  getting  easy  access  to  the  man)^ 
attractions  that  the  denizen  of  the  Metropolis  can 
enjoy,  if  he  will,  in  his  leisure  hours.  Already  thti* 
Elevated  Roads  are  beginning  to  affect  the  tenemenr, 
houses,  and  many  of  the  dwellers  in  these  vast  rooker- 
ies have  moved  up  to  Harlem  and  its  vicinity,  where 
they  can  obtain  entire  houses  for  a  little  more  than  the 
price  paid  for  a  few  rooms  in  their  former  habitations. 

To  the  stranger  the  Elevated  Roads  offer  a  pleasure 
not  to  be  experienced  in  any  other  city.  You  mount 
the  stairway  to  the  station,  purchase  your  ticket^ 
deposit  it  in  the  box  at  the  gate,  and  take  your  place 


190 


NEW  YORK. 


on  the  platform  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  train.  Here 
it  comes,  puffing  and  snorting,  and  draws  up  to  the 
station  as  leisurely  and  quietly  as  if  there  was  no  hurry 
about  the  performance.  You  step  on  board,  and  find 
yourself  in  a  handsome,  airy,  and  comfortable  car. 
Then  follows  a  ride  which  will  be  always  remembered. 
You  whirl  along  the  streets  on  a  level  with  the  sec- 
ond stories  of  the  houses,  and  looking  down  can  enjoy 
all  the  sights  in  the  roadway  and  on  the  sidewalk 
below.  Underneath  you  the  horse  cars  pass  and  repass, 
and  you  hear  the  pleasant  jingle  of  bells.  The  grand 
panorama  of  the  streets  traversed  spreads  out  before 
you ;  distant  views  of  the  rivers  and  their  shipping  are 
caught,  and  at  last  you  reach  your  destination,  feeling 
that  you  have  had  an  experience  to  be  remembered. 
You  have  enjoyed  New  York's  latest  wonder;  you 
have  made  a  trip  on  the  Elevated  Railroad. 

The  Third  avenue  line  runs  its  trains  all  night. 
They  start  from  each  end  of  the  road  every  fifteen 
minutes,  from  midnight  to  a  quarter  of  five  in  the  morn- 
ing. These  are  "the  Owl  Trains,"  and  carry  home  the 
late  workers  in  the  great  newspaper  ofifices,  belated 
travelers,  and  the  "b'hoys"  who  have  been  making  a 
night  of  it.  Let  us  take  the  trip  on  one  of  these  trains 
in  company  with  a  reporter  of  the  New  York  Herald, 
starting  from  the  South  Ferry  an  hour  after  midnight. 

"Puff!  Puff!  On  we  go,  slowly  at  first,  over  the  tangle 
of  switches,  and  then  as  the  gleaming  track  stretches 
out  before,  we  gain  headway,  and  go  rushing  into  the 
shadow  of  the  silent  tenements  and  the  deserted  work 
shops  of  down  town.  A  couple  of  passengers  join  us 
at  Fulton  street,  three  more  at  Hanover  Square,  and 


A  RIDE  ON  THE  ELEVATED  ROAD 


191 


then  we  sweep  along  toward  the  east  side  thorough- 
fare, where  the  flare  of  Hght  before  us  shows  that  the 
denizens  are  still  astir.  We  are  rattling  past  the  odd 
clusters  of  houses  that  swarm  down  to  the  river's  edge 
— oddly  enough  they  look  in  the  darkness — these 
human  hives  crowded  together  in  so  many  uncouth 
shapes,  with  a  stray  light  struggling  through  the  panes, 
and  the  lines  of  the  narrow  streets  broken  and  almost 
lost  among  them.  On  past  this  region  of  dark  abodes, 
from  which  even  now  the  sound  of  a  street  broil  reaches 
us,  and  then  there  is  a  rattle  of  switches  as  we  sweep 
about  the  curve  into  the  light  and  find  ourselves 
at  Chatham  Square.  A  group  of  passengers  come 
aboard  here,  and  there  is  a  show  of  activity  in  the  sta- 
tion. Doubtless  there  is  a  certain  animation  imparted 
to  it  by  the  sounds  of  life,  loud  enough  and  sufficiently 
varied  for  the  broadest  kind  of  day,  that  float  up  to  it 
without  ceasing  from  the  Bowery  beneath.  There  is 
nothing  in  this  glare  of  light,  nothing  in  this  swarming 
pavement,  to  indicate  that  midnight  has  passed.  The 
windows  gleam,  the  saloons  are  all  aglare,  a  half-score 
pianos  and  violins  send  as  many  airs  floating  into  the 
night  to  blend  into  an  instrumental  discord  that  attunes 
itself  fidy  to  the  roysterer  s  song,  the  brawler's  oath  and 
the  hundred  strange  voices  of  the  night.  We  go  on 
now  over  all  these,  with  the  rattle  of  the  wheels  drown- 
ing the  noise,  and  only  the  darkened  and  apparently 
deserted  stories  of  the  houses  on  a  level  with  our  eyes. 
It  seems  as  though  we  were  driving  over  a  troubled 
sea,  but  in  an  atmosphere  becalmed. 

"Grand  street  and  then  Houston  are  reached.  We 
receive  few  accessions  at  either. 


192 


NEW  YORK. 


*'The  vehicle  that  will  reduce  the  lateness  of  arrival 
by  some  minutes,  and  depreciate  by  a  corresponding 
percentage  the  rancor  of  the  waiting  wife  or  the  observ- 
ant mother-in-law,  is  a  boon  sure  to  be  appreciated. 
This  sentiment  received  free  expression  at  the  hands 
of  a  professor-like  body  in  the  car,  who,  alone  of  all 
the  passengers,  opened  communication  with  his  fellow 
men,  and  who  himself  seemed  a  trifle  anxious  to 
bring-  his  latch  key  into  speedy  communication  with  the 
front  door. 

"In  fact,  most  of  the  passengers  seemed  very  impas- 
sive and  preoccupied.  Several  of  them  were  conspic- 
uously so,  and  the  trip  up  town  was  quite  uneventful 
until  the  advent  of  the  ubiquitous  small  boy.  He  was 
a  good  specimen  of  the  class — spry,  saucy  and  mis- 
chievous. He  was  projected  into  our  midst  from  the 
Houston  street  station,  at  which  he  flung  a  parting 
comment  on  some  one's  freshness.  For  a  time  he  edified 
us  by  performing  a  sort  of  double-shuffle  in  one  end 
of  the  car,  and  then  fell  into  conversation  with  the  pro- 
fessor-like person,  to  whom  he  confided  that  he  was  a 
mechanic  in  a  feather  foundry,"  together  with  much 
other  valuable  and  equally  reliable  information.  A  few 
popular  airs,  rather  discordantly  whistled,  and  an  ar^tive 
passage  at  words  with  the  brakeman,  made  up  the  sum 
of  the  small  boy's  entertainment,  when,  in  a  charitable 
effort  to  close  the  gate  on  the  conductor's  fingers,  he 
retired  at  68th  street. 

"We  were  now  well  up  town,  and  running  between 
the  rows  of  flats  and  tenements  on  either  side  the  street 
Here  all  was  repose.    Closed  shutters,  draped  windows, 


4 


VIEWS  FROM  THE  "OWL  TRAINS."  193 

darkened  rooms — everywhere  a  recognition  of  the 
hours  of  slumber.  Only  the  street  lamps  beneath,  and 
only  a  semi-occasional  by-passer.  Here  the  din  of 
the  cars  seems  louder  than  before,  and  strangely  at 
variance  with  the  dead  silence  of  the  slumbering  home- 
steads. The  pace  of  the  engine  seems  quickest  now, 
and  as  we  leave  86th  street  a  sudden  belt  of  darkness 
is  thrown  upon  the  windows.  We  have  passed  from 
the  tenanted  portions  of  the  avenue  and  are  flying 
across  the  Harlem  flats.  How  dim,  how  gloomy  they 
lie  in  this  moonless  night.  A  medley  here  of  roofs  and 
gables ;  there  the  flash  of  a  whitewashed  wall  all  down  in 
the  hollow,  with  only  a  fitful  glimmer  in  some  window- 
pane.  Even  the  street  lamps  gleaming  by  the  way  look 
dim,  and  the  twinkle  of  the  lights  of  Astoria,  away  across 
the  water,  are  distant  and  uncertain.  Suddenly  a  great 
yellow  eye  opens  down  towards  the  river  and  glows 
like  a  full  moon  in  the  darkness.  It  is  the  clock  on  the 
Second  avenue  railroad  depot,  which  we  are  whirling 
past.  Only  that  sign  of  life  in  all  the  dark  landscape, 
from  the  line  of  the  river  to  the  sky  on  the  other  side, 
where  the  hills  and  trees  of  Central  Park  stretch  like 
an  undulating  belt.  Yet  we  are  going  over  scores  of 
little  homesteads  instinct  with  life.  And  at  such  a  pace ! 
The  train  seems  to  fairly  spin  along.  One  thinks,  go- 
ing through  the  air  at  this  rate,  of  the  phantom  hunts- 
man of  the  Hartz  tearing  over  the  hamlets  and  forest 
lands,  and  the  witches  of  old  whirling  across  the  sky 
astride  their  broomsticks.  But  when  one  comes  back 
to  the  prosaic,  cosy  seats  of  the  elevated  road,  he  feels 
that  he  has  a  much  more  substantial  and  comfortable 


13 


194 


NEW  YORK. 


conveyance  than  the  phantom  steed,  and  one  which  has 
many  points  of  superiority  over  the  witches'  favorite 
vehicle. 

"  I  o6th  street !  We  are  going  into  Harlem.  We 
have  dropped  all  our  passengers  but  two.  Naturally, 
in  these  high  local  latitudes  we  take  on  no  more.  We 
keep  the  pace  for  a  time  from  station  to  station,  then 
'down  brakes'  is  whistled,  we  slow  up  and  come  roll- 
ing up  to  the  end  of  the  route  in  dignified  fashion. 
There  are  a  good  many  people  at  the  station  as  we 
reach  it,  and  while  the  engine  waits  others  arrive. 
About  double  as  many  passengers  board  the  train  to 
go  down  as  came  up." 


NEW  YORK  SOCIETY. 


195 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SOCIETY. 

fHE  VARIOUS  CLASSES  OP  SOCIETY— THE  BEST  OF  ALL— THE  "OLD  KNICKERBOCKERS'*— A  HEAVT 

*  SET  OF  SWELLS— RICHES  AND  CULTURE  COMBINED — THE  NEWLY  RICH — THE  CONTROLLING 
BLEMENT— HOW  SHODDY  GETS  INTO  SOCIETY — THE  POWER  OF  MONEY— FASHIONABLE  SJNO»» 
BERY — FROM  THE  TENEMENT  HOUSE  TO  THE  FIFTH   AVENUE  MANSION — MANIA    FOR  COATS 

OF   ARMS— HOW   BOSS  TWEED  WAS  VICTIMIZED  SUDDEN    APPEARANCES    AND  DISAPPEARt 

ANCES  IN  SOCIETY — "  RICHES  HAVE  WINGS  "—A  FAILURE  AND  A  TRIUMPH— WH\T  IT  COSTS — 
MONEY  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL — EXTRAVAGANCE  OF  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY — LOVE  OF  DRESS 
— A  FASHIONABLE  LADY'S  WARDROBE — FOLLIES  OF  THE  MEN — PASSION  FOR  THE  LEG  BUSI- 
NESS— FASHIONABLE  ENTERTAINMENTS — THE  END  OF  EXTRAVAGANT  CAREERS — THE  SKELE- 
TONS SOMETIMES  COME  OUT  OF  THEIR  CLOSETS — FASHIONABLE  BALLS  AND  PARTIES — HOW 
THEV  ARE  GIVEN — INVITATIONS — BALL  ROOM  SCENES — THE  SUPPERS — A  SWELL  CONVERSATION 
—FASHIONABLE  THIEVES — AN  ARISTOCRATIC  SNEAK  THIEF — HOW  A  BROKER  KEPT  HIS  PLACB 
IN  SOCIETY— A  detective's  EXPERIENCE  IN  FASHIONABLE  LIFE — THE  PRETTY  WIDOW  AND 
THE  LACES — FASHIONABLE  RECEPTIONS — WEDDINGS  IN  HIGH  LIFE — ARRANGED  ON  A  PECU- 
NIARY BASIS — MONEY  THE  ATTRACTION — HOW  HEARTS  ARE  BOUGHT  AND  SOLD — THE  WED- 
DING FESTIVITIES — GUARDING  THE  BRIDAL  PRESENTS — WHAT  IT  ALL  COSTS — FASHIONABLB 
DEATH — ONLY  THE  RICH  CAN  AFFORD  TO  DIE  IN  NEW  YORK— COST  OF  A  FASHIONABLB 
FUNERAL— INTERESTING  DETAILS. 

I. 

CONSTITUENT  PARTS. 

Society  in  New  York  is  made  up  of  many  parts,  a 
few  of  which  we  propose  to  examine. 

The  first  class  is  unfortunately  the  smallest,  and  con- 
sists of  those  who  set  culture  and  personal  refinement 
above  riches.  It  is  made  up  of  professional  men  and 
their  families — lawyers,  clergymen,  artists,  authors, 
physicians,  scientific  men,  and  others  of  kindred  pur- 
suits and  tastes.  Compared  with  the  other  classes,  it 
is  not  wealthy,  though  many  of  its  members  manage 
to  attain  competency  and  ease.  Their  homes  are  taste- 
ful, and  often  elegant,  and  the  household  graces  are 
cultivated  in  preference  to  display.    The  tone  of  this 


196 


NEW  YORK. 


class  is  pure,  healthful  and  vigorous,  and  personal 
merit  is  the  surest  passport  to  it.  It  furnishes  the  best 
specimens  of  manhood  and  womanhood  to  be  met  with 
in  the  metropolis,  and  its  home-Hfe  is  simple  and  at- 
tractive. In  short,  it  may  be  said  to  be  the  saving 
element  of  the  society  of  the  metropolis,  and  fortunately 
it  is  a  growing  element,  drawing  to  it  every  year  new 
members,  not  only  from  the  city  itself,  but  from  all 
parts  of  the  country.  It  is  this  class  which  gives  tone 
to  the  moral  and  religious  life  of  the  city,  which  supports 
the  lectures,  concerts, oratorios  and  scientific  entertain- 
ments which  form  so  pleasant  a  feature  of  city  Hfe,  and 
it  is  seen  in  force  at  Wallack's  and  other  leading  thea- 
tres on  the  first  night  of  some  new  play.  Its  members 
are  generally  sufficiently  well-off  in  this  world's  goods 
to  render  them  independent  of  the  forms  to  which 
others  are  slaves.  Travel  and  observation,  added  to 
natural  abilities,  enable  them  to  estimate  persons  and 
things  at  their  true  value,  and  they  maintain  their  posi- 
tions without  caring  to  imitate  or  enter  into  competition 
with  their  wealthier  neighbors.  They  are  always  ready 
to  recognize  and  lend  a  helping  hand  to  struggling 
merit,  but  sternly  discountenance  vulgarity  and  impos- 
ture. They  furnish  the  men  and  women  who  do  the 
best  work  and  accomplish  the  greatest  results  in  social 
and  business  life,  and  their  names  are  honored  through- 
out the  city. 

The  next  class  is  composed  of  the  descendants  of  the 
original  Dutch  settlers  of  New  York,  and  style 
themselves  "the  Old  Knickerbockers."  They  are 
clannish,  and  cling  together,  looking  down  with  a 
lofty  contempt  upon  all  who  cannot  show  a  Dutch 


OLD  KNICKERBOCKERS. 


197 


ancestor,  or  produce  a  long  line  of  family  por- 
traits as  proof  of  their  descent.  Many  of  these  people 
are  highly  educated,  refined,  and  would  be  a  credit  to 
any  society,  were  it  not  for  their  ridiculous  affectation  of 
superiority  to  their  neighbors.  This  affectation  of 
superiority  often  exposes  them  to  unmerciful  ridicule, 
but  they  bear  it  with  true  Dutch  phlegm.  Each  one 
has  his  coat  of  arms,  and  all  seem  to  rely  more  upon 
their  descent  from  the  hard-headed  old  Dutchmen  of 
New  Amsterdam  than  upon  their  own  merits.  You 
could  not  insult  them  more  deeply  than  to  intimate  that 
the  venerable  mynheer  from  whom  they  boast  descent 
was,  in  the  palmy  days  of  New  Amsterdam,  a  butcher, 
a  fish  vender,  or  a  tanner  down  in  the  swamp,  and 
knew  little  of  and  cared  less  for  stately  escutcheons  and 
armorial  bearings.  Many  of  the  members  of  this  class 
are  large  real  estate  owners,  their  property  being 
among  the  most  valuable  in  the  city.  The  little  farm 
of  the  Dutch  ancestor  is  now  a  succession  of  valuable 
building  lots,  and  instead  of  bearing  cabbages  and 
onions  is  covered  with  stately  edifices,  and  has  enriched 
the  descendants  far  beyond  the  "ancestor's"  wildest 
dreams.  They  are  a  heavy  and  solemn  class,  these 
"Old  Knickerbockers,"  even  the  very  young  ones. 
They  are  not  overburdened  with  brains,  as  a  rule,  and 
try  to  atone  for  this  deficiency  by  assuming  the  most 
pompous  and  heavy  bearing.  Many,  perhaps  a 
majority,  of  this  class  are  undoubtedly  what  they  claim 
to  be  as  regards  descent,  but  it  must  be  confessed  that 
there  are  those  among  them  whose  names  are  not  to  be 
found  in  the  lists  of  the  people  of  New  Amsterdam. 
No  matter,  they  have  wealth,  they  affect  the  Dutch 


198 


NEW  YORK. 


Style,  have  a  "Van  "  to  their  names,  and  somehow  have 
a  line  of  old,  yellow  "family  portraits"  to  show,  and  if 
pressed  for  their  pedigree,  is  there  not  a  "college  ot 
heraldry"  in  the  city  to  make  one  for  them? 

The  third  class  consists  of  those  who  have  inherited 
large  wealth  from  one  or  more  generations  of  ances- 
tors, but  who  make  no  claim  to  aristocratic  descent. 
They  are  generally  people  of  culture,  with  nothing  of 
shoddyism  or  snobbery  about  them.  They  have  traveled 
extensively,  and  are  free  from  the  narrow  provincial 
ideas  that  characterize  so  many  of  the  New  York  "Upper 
Ten."  Their  houses  are  filled  with  valuable  works  of 
art  and  mementoes  of  foreign  travel.  Having  an 
abundance  of  leisure,  they  are  free  to  cultivate  the 
graces  of  life,  and  they  constitute  one  of  the  pleasant- 
est  portions  of  the  society  of  the  city.  The  class  is  not 
large,  but  it  is  constantly  receiving  new  members  in  the 
children  of  men  who  have  made  their  way  in  the  world, 
and  have  learned  to  value  money  at  its  true  worth. 
They  make  good  citizens,  with  the  exception  of  an  easy 
going  indifference  to  political  affairs,  are  proud  of  their 
city  and  country,  and  do  not  ape  the  airs  or  customs  of 
foreign  lands. 

The  fourth  and  largest  class,  that  which  may  be  said 
to  give  New  York  fashionable  society  its  peculiar  tone» 
consists  of  the  "Newly  Rich."  These  are  so  numer- 
ous, and  make  themselves  so  conspicuous,  that  they  are 
naturally  regarded  as  the  representative  class  of  New 
York  society.  They  may  be  known  by  their  coarse 
appearances,  and  still  coarser  manners,  their  loud  style, 
and  ostentatious  display  of  wealth.  Money  with  them 
is  everything,  and  they  judge  men,  not  by  their  merits, 


FIFTH  AVENUE  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


199 


but  by  their  bank  accounts.  They  are  strangers  to  the 
refinements  and  "small,  sweet  courtesies"  of  life,  and  for 
them  substitute  a  hauteur  and  a  dash  that  lay  them 
open  to  unmerciful  ridicule.  Without  education  or  pol- 
ish, they  look  down  upon  those  who  are  less  fortunate 
than  themselves,  and  fawn  with  cringing  servility  upon 
the  more  aristocratic  portion  of  society.  To  be  invited 
to  an  entertainment  of  some  family  of  solid  repute  in 
the  fashionable  world,  to  be  on  visiting  terms  with  those 
whose  wealth  and  culture  rank  them  as  the  true  aris- 
tocracy, is  the  height  of  their  ambition.  This  they 
generally  accomplish,  for  money  is  a  passport  to  all 
classes  of  New  York  society.  The  better  elements 
may  laugh  at  the  "  Newly  Rich,"  but  they  invite  them 
to  their  houses,  entertain  them,  are  entertained  in  re- 
turn, and  so  do  their  share  in  keeping  "Shoddy"  firm 
in  its  position  in  the  avenue.  The  "Newly  Rich" 
know  the  power  of  their  money,  and  they  use  it  ac- 
cordingly. The  wealthy  Mr.  McGinnis,  uncouth  as  he 
is,  unrefined  as  his  family  are,  can  give  handsomer  and 
more  costly  entertainments,  and  in  mere  matters  of 
richness  and  display,  can  far  outshine  the  aristocratic 
Mr.  Van  Bomp,  whose  ancestors  run  back  to  the  days 
of  the  Half  Moon  and  New  Amsterdam.  So  Mr.  Van 
Bomp,  meeting  McGinnis  in  society,  learns  to  put  up 
with  his  rough  ways,  though  he  may  laugh  at  them  in 
private,  exchanges  hospitalities  with  him,  and  in  many 
ways  helps  the  new  rich  man  up  the  social  ladder,  and 
the  dream  of  McGinnis'  life  is  realized. 

The  "  Newly  Rich"  look  down  with  supreme  con- 
tempt, upon  the  institutions  which  have  enabled  them 
to  rise  so  high  in  the  social  scale.    It  is  from  them  one 


200 


NEW  YORK. 


hears  so  many  complaints  of  the  degeneracy  of  society, 
and  it  is  they  whose  frowns  chill  the  ambitious  hopes 
of  rising  merit.  Lacking  personal  dignity  themselves, 
they  ridicule  it  in  others.  They  are  ashamed  of  their 
origin,  and  it  is  a  mortal  offence  to  one  of  these  new- 
fledged  fashionables  to  remind  him  that  you  knew  him 
a  few  years  back  as  a  hard-working  mechanic  or  shop- 
keeper. His  better-half  may  have  been  a  dressmaker, 
a  shop-girl,  or  have  risen  from  some  humbler  position 
in  life  ;  but  that  is  all  forgotten  now,  and  it  would  be 
not  only  bad  taste,  but  a  mortal  offence,  to  refer  to  it. 
Some  strange  changes  of  names  are  brought  about  by 
a  translation  to  the  upper  circles.  Plain  John  Smith 
becomes  John  Smythe,  and  perhaps,  Smyythe.  Sam 
Long,  who  began  life  by  driving  a  dray,  is  now  Mr. 
Samuel  Longue ;  Mc'Ginnis  becomes  MacGufennesse. 
A  coat  of  arms  suddenly  makes  its  appearance,  for  the 
establishment  in  the  city  which  deals  in  such  matters  is 
equal  to  any  emergency,  and  oftentimes  a  pedigree  is 
manufactured  in  the  same  way.  As  for  family  por- 
traits, "  Sypher's,"  or  any  of  the  old  curiosity  or  bric- 
a-brac  stores,  can  provide  any  number  of  these.  Some 
years  ago,  when  the  late  Boss  Tweed  was  at  the  height 
of  his  power,  he  thought  his  new  dignity  required  a 
coat  of  arms,  which  was  duly  engraved  upon  his  silver 
and  emblazoned  on  the  panels  of  his  equipages.  It 
was  a  superb  design,  and  tickled  the  Boss  immensely; 
but  his  joy  was  cut  short  when  he  found  that  the 
Herald's  College "  had  bestowed  upon  him  the  ar- 
morial bearings  of  the  Marquis  of  Tweedale,  one  of 
England's  proudest  peers.  Of  course  there  was  a 
broad  laugh  throughout  the  city  at  the  honorable  Wil- 
liam*s  expense. 


SUDDEN  CHANGES  IN  SOCIETY. 


201 


Some  of  the  fashionables  appear  very  suddenly  in 
society.  For  the  better  part  of  their  lives  they  have 
lived  very  modestly,  perhaps  in  a  tenement  house.  A 
series  of  fortunate  speculations  in  Wall  street,  or  in 
other  branches  of  commerce  places  the  husband 
speedily  in  possession  of  great  wealth.  The  family  is 
ambitious,  and  it  has  now  the  one  thing  necessary  to 
enable  it  to  shine  in  New  York  society.  A  mansion  in 
Fifth  or  Madison  avenue,  or  one  of  the  aristocratic  cross 
streets  intersecting  those  thoroughfares,  is  secured;  the 
newly  acquired  wealth  is  liberally  expended  in  fitting  up 
the  new  home  ;  and  then  the  fortunate  owners  of  it  sud- 
denly burst  upon  society  as  stars  of  the  first  magnitude. 
They  are  ill  adapted  to  their  new  position  it  is  true,  rude 
and  unrefined,  but  they  have  wealth  and  are  willing  to 
spend  it,  and  money  is  supposed  to  carry  with  it  all  the 
virtues  and  graces  of  fashionable  life.  This  is  all 
society  requires,  and  it  receives  them  with  open  arms, 
flatters  and  courts  them,  and  exalts  them  to  the  seventh 
heaven  of  fashionable  bliss. 

Lucky  are  they  who  can  manage  to  retain  the  posi- 
tions thus  acquired.  It  too  often  happens  that  this 
suddenly  gotten  wealth  goes  as  rapidly  as  it  came. 
Then  the  stars  begin  to  pale,  and  finally  the  family 
drops  out  of  the  fashionable  world.  It  is  not  missed, 
however;  new  stars  take  their  places,  perhaps  to  share 
the  same  fate.  Thus  this  class  of  society  is  not  perma- 
nent as  regards  its  members.  It  is  constantly  chang- 
ing. People  come  and  go,  and  the  leaders  of  one 
season  may  be  conspicuous  the  next  only  by  their 
absence. 

Sometimes  even  this  class  of  society  takes  a  notion 


202 


NEW  YORK. 


to  be  exclusive,  and  then  it  is  hard  to  enter  the  charmed 
circle.  Some  years  ago  a  gentleman,  a  man  of  brains 
and  sterling  merit,  who  had  risen  slowly  to  fortune, 
feeling  himself  in  every  way  fitted  for  social  distinction, 
resolved  to  enter  society,  and  to  signalize  his  entree  by 
a  grand  entertainment.  At  that  time  he  lived  in  a  not 
very  fashionable  street,  but  he  did  not  regard  this  as  a 
drawback.  He  issued  his  invitations,  and  prepared  his 
entertainment  upon  a  scale  of  unusual  magnificence, 
and  at  the  appointed  time  his  mansion  was  ablaze  with 
light,  and  ready  for  the  guests.  Great  was  his  morti- 
fication. Not  one  of  those  invited  set  foot  within  his 
doors.  In  his  anger  he  swore  a  mighty  oath  that  he 
would  yet  compel  New  York  society  to  humble  itself 
to  him.  He  kept  his  word,  became  one  of  the  wealthiest 
men  in  the  city,  indeed,  one  of  the  merchant  princes  of 
the  land,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  society,  which 
had  scorned  his  first  invitations,  was  begging  for  admis- 
sion to  his  sumptuous  fetes.  He  became  a  leader  of 
society,  and  his  mandates  were  humbly  obeyed  by  those 
who  had  once  presumed  to  look  down  upon  him.  It 
was  a  characteristic  triumph;  his  millions  did  the  work. 

II. 

WHAT  IT  COSTS. 

Poverty  is  always  a  misfortune.  New  York  brands 
it  as  a  crime.  Consequently  no  poor  man,  or  even  one 
of  moderate  means,  can  hold  a  place  in  New  York 
society.  Indeed,  it  would  be  simply  impossible  for  any 
one  not  possessed  of  great  wealth  to  maintain  a  posi- 
tion there,  as  to  do  this  requires  an  almost  fabulous 
outlay  of  money.  As  money  opens  the  doors  of  the 
charmed  circle,  so  money  must  keep  one  within  it 


FASHIONABLE  EXTRAVAGANCE. 


203 


Thus  sooiety  in  New  York  has  become  the  most 
extravagant  in  the  world.  Nowhere  on  the  globe  are 
such  immense  sums  spent.  Extravagance  is  the  beset- 
ting sin  of  Metropolitan  social  life.  Immense  sums  are 
expended  annually  in  furnishing  the  aristocratic  man- 
sions, in  dress,  in  entertainments,  and  in  all  sorts  of 
folly  and  dissipation.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  a 
house  and  its  contents  to  be  heavily  mortgaged  to  pro- 
vide the  means  of  keeping  its  occupants  in  proper 
style.  The  pawnbrokers  drive  a  thriving  trade  with 
the  ladies  of  position,  who  pledge  jewels,  costly  dresses, 
and  other  articles  of  feminine  luxury,  to  raise  the  money 
needed  for  some  "high-toned"  folly.  Each  member 
of  society  strives  to  outshine  or  outdress  his  or  her 
acquaintances,  and  to  do  so  requires  a  continual  strug- 
gle, and  a  continual  drain  upon  the  bank  account.  Men 
have  been  led  to  madness  and  suicide,  and  women  to 
sin  and  shame,  by  this  constant  race  for  social  distinc- 
tion ;  but  the  mad  round  of  extravagance  and  folly  goes 
on,  the  new  comers  failing  to  profit  by  the  experience 
of  those  who  have  gone  before  them. 

The  love  of  dress  is  a  characteristic  of  the  New  York 
woman  of  fashion.  To  be  the  best  dressed  woman  at 
a  ball,  the  opera,  a  dinner,  or  on  the  street,  is  the  height 
of  her  ambition.  To  outshine  all  other  women  in  the 
splendor  of  her  attire  or  her  jewels,  is  to  render  her 
s-upremely  happy.  Dresses  are  ordered  without  regard 
to  cost,  and  other  articles  of  luxury  are  purchased  in 
proportion.  Nowhere  in  the  world  are  seen  such 
splendidly  dressed,  such  gorgeously  bejeweled  women 
as  in  New  York.  A  recent  writer,  touching  upon  this 
topic  says: — 


^04  NEW  YORK. 

"It  is  impossible  to  estimate  the  number  of  dresses  a 
fashionable  woman  will  have.  Most  women  in  society- 
can  afford  to  dress  as  it  pleases  them,  since  they  have 
unlimited  amounts  of  money  at  their  disposal.  Among 
females,  dress  is  the  principal  part  of  society.  What 
would  Madame  Mountain  be  without  her  laces  or  dia- 
monds, or  Madame  Blanche  without  her  silks  or  satins  ? 
Simply  common-place,  old  women,  past  their  prime, 
destined  to  be  wall-flowers.  A  fashionable  woman  has 
just  as  many  new  dresses  as  the  different  times  she 
goes  into  society.  The  elite  do  not  wear  the  same 
dresses  twice.  If  you  can  tell  us  how  many  receptions 
she  has  in  a  year,  how  many  weddings  she  attends, 
how  many  balls  she  participates  in,  how  many  dinners 
she  gives,  how  many  parties  she  goes  to,  how  many 
operas  and  theatres  she  patronizes,  we  can  approxi- 
mate somewhat  to  the  size  and  cost  of  her  wardrobe. 
It  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  she  has  two 
new  dresses  of  some  sort  for  every  day  in  the  year,  or 
seven  hundred  and  twenty.  Now,  to  purchase  all 
these,  to  order  them  made,  and  to  put  them  on  after- 
ward, consumes  a  vast  amount  of  time.  Indeed,  the 
woman  of  society  does  little  but  don  and  doff  dry 
goods.  For  a  few  brief  hours  she  flutters  the  latest 
tint  and  mode  in  the  glare  of  the  gaslight,  and  then  re- 
peats the  same  operation  the  next  night.  She  must 
have  one  or  two  velvet  dresses,  which  cannot  cost  less 
than  $500  each ;  she  must  possess  thousands  of  dol- 
lars' worth  of  laces,  in  the  shape  of  flounces,  to  loop 
up  overskirts  of  dresses,  as  occasion  shall  require. 
Walking  dresses  cost  from  ^50  to  ^300 ;  ball  dresses 
are  frequently  imported  from  Paris  at  a  cost  of  from 


A  FASHIONABLE  LADY'S  WARDROBE. 


205 


$SOO  to  $1000;  while  a  wedding  dress  may  cost  from 
5^1000  to  $5000.  Nice  white  Llama  jackets  can  be  had 
for  $60  ;  rodes  pHncesse,  or  overskirts  of  lace,  are  worth 
from  ^60  to  ^200.  Then  there  are  traveling  dresses 
in  black  silk,  in  pongee,  in  velvet,  in  pique,  which 
range  in  price  from  ^75  to  $175.  Then  there  are 
evening  robes  in  Swiss  muslin,  robes  in  linen  for  the 
garden  and  croquet  playing,  dresses  for  horse-races 
and  for  yacht- races,  robes  de  mat  and  robes  de  cha7nbre^ 
dresses  for  breakfast  and  for  dinner,  dresses  for  recep- 
tions and  for  parties,  dresses  for  watering  places,  and 
dresses  for  all  possible  occasions.  A  lady  going  to  the 
Springs  takes  from  twenty  to  sixty  dresses,  and  fills  an 
enormous  number  of  Saratoga  trunks.  They  are  of 
every  possible  fabric,  from  Hindoo  muslin,  ''gaze  de 
sole,'  crape  maretz,  to  the  heavy  silks  of  Lyons." 

This  is  no  exaggerated  picture.  The  sales  of  silks 
at  Stewart's,  alone,  average  about  $15,000  daily,  and 
each  of  the  other  monster  dry  goods  establishments 
do  a  business  in  proportion.  For  the  finer  articles  of 
dress,  gloves,  laces,  velvets,  shawls  and  the  like,  thou- 
sands are  spent  every  day  at  these  establishments ; 
and  the  fashionable  modistes,  or  dressmakers,  have  an 
enormous  custom  and  soon  grow  rich.  Some  years 
ago  a  gentleman,  whose  residence  had  been  consumed 
by  fire,  submitted  to  a  leading  insurance  company  a 
claim  for  $21,000  on  his  daughter's  wardrobe  alone. 
The  claim  was  disputed.  It  was  carried  into  court, 
where  it  was  proved,  item  by  item,  and  the  company 
was  compelled  to  pay  the  money. 

Nor  are  the  men  one  whit  behind  the  women  in  their 
extravagance.    They  have  their  follies,  their  dissipa- 


206 


NEW  YORK. 


tions,  their  clubs,  their  fast  teams,  and  a  hundred  othei 
ways  of  getting  rid  of  money,  and  they  manage  to 
spend  it  quite  as  lavishly  as  the  ladies  of  their  families. 
Yachting,  the  races  and  cards  absorb  large  sums, 
and  heavy  amounts  go  to  women  whose  charms  are 
for  sale  to  the  highest  bidder.  The  men  are  coarser 
than  the  women,  and  their  pleasures  and  dissipations 
are  of  a  lower  grade.  They  have  not  the  tact  which 
■e:nables  the  female  members  of  their  families  to  get 
along  in  the  fashionable  world,  and  seek  amusement 
elsewhere.  They  are  liberal  patrons  of  the  drama, 
especially  the  ballet  and  "the  leg  business."  Many  do 
Slot  make  any  attempts  to  accompany  their  wives  and 
daughters  to  fashionable  entertainments.  They  are 
out  of  their  element  there,  and  prefer  to  seek  pleasure 
in  their  own  way. 

Entertainments  are  given  in  the  most  elaborate  and 
costly  style,  and  thousands  of  dollars  are  paid  out  in  a 
single  evening  for  this  purpose.  A  fashionable  party 
will  consume  from  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand 
<lollars  worth  of  champagne  alone.  It  is  no  uncom- 
jnon  thing  for  an  elaborate  ball  to  cost  from  ten  to  fif- 
t.een  thousand  dollars,  or  even  more,  or  for  a  dinner 
party  to  cost  from  five  thousand  dollars  upward.  There 
are  many  things  to  be  provided  besides  the  entertain- 
ment itself,  and  these  all  go  to  swell  the  bill.  At  some 
of  these  entertainments  costly  presents  of  jewelry  are 
given  to  each  guest,  delicately  enclosed  in  the  folds  of 
rich  bouquets. 

Now  this  is  well  enough  for  those  who  can  afford  it; 
but  the  majority  of  the  New  York  fashionables  cannot 
stand  the  strain  long.    As  we  have  said,  their  wealth. 


HONOR  SOLD  FOR  MONEY.  207 

great  tnough  it  be,  melts  steadily  under  such  demands 
upon  it,  until  there  is  nothing  left,  and  bankruptcy  and 
ruin  end  the  story.  From  time  to  time  the  business 
community  is  starded  by  the  failure,  perhaps  the  sui- 
cide, of  some  nominally  well-to-do  merchant  or  banker. 
The  affair  causes  a  brief  sensation  and  is  soon  forgot- 
ten. The  cause  is  well  known.  "Living  beyond  his 
means,"  or  "ruined  by  his  family's  extravagance,"  is 
the  stereotyped  reason  given.  Men  suffer  the  tortures 
of  the  damned  in  their  efforts  to  maintain  their  com- 
mercial standing,  and  at  the  same  time  to  provide  their 
families  with  the  means  of  keeping  their  places  in  so- 
ciety. They  are  driven  to  forgery,  defalcation,  and  other 
crimes,  yet  they  do  not  achieve  their  object.  Ruin 
lays  its  hand  upon  them,  and  the  game  is  played  out. 

As  for  Madame,  she  must  have  money.  The  hus- 
band may  not  be  able  to  furnish  it,  and  there  may  be 
a  limit  to  even  the  pawnbroker's  generosity  ;  but  money 
she  must  have.  Fashionable  life  affords  her  the  means. 
She  sells  her  honor  for  filthy  lucre  ;  she  finds  a  lover 
with  a  free  purse,  and  willing  to  pay  for  her  favors. 
She  acts  with  her  eyes  open,  and  sins  deliberately,  and 
from  the  basest  of  motives.  She  wants  money  and  she 
gets  it.  Sometimes  the  intrigue  runs  on  without  detec- 
tion, and  Madame  shifts  from  lover  to  lover,  according 
to  her  needs.  Again  there  is  an  unexpected  discovery; 
an  explosion  follows;  Madame's  fine  reputation  goes 
to  the  winds ;  and  there  is  a  gap  in  society.  No 
wonder  so  many  fashionable  women  look  jaded,  have 
an  anxious,  half-startled  expression,  and  seem  weary. 
Tliey  are  living  in  a  state  of  dread  lest  their  secrets  be 
discovered  and  the  inevitable  ruin  overtake  them. 


208 


NEW  YORK. 


III. 

FASHIONABLE  BALLS  AND  PARTIES. 

The  fashionable  entertainments  of  New  York  are 
noted  for  their  magnificence  and  their  great  cost» 
During  the  season,  which  comprises  the  late  fall,  the 
winter,  and  the  early  spring,  scarcely  a  night  passes 
that  does  not  witness  one  or  more  balls  or  parties. 
Sometimes  these  are  inconveniently  close  to  each  other, 
and  the  arriving  and  departing  carriages  are  uncom- 
fortably crowded  in  the  street.  Sometimes  the  host 
and  hostess  prefer  to  give  their  entertainment  at  one 
of  the  establishments — Delmonico's,  or  one  of  his 
rivals — specially  fitted  up  for  that  purpose.  This  saves 
an  immense  amount  of  trouble  at  home,  for  the  whole 
affair  is  then  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  fashionable 
caterer,  who  provides  everything,  attends  to  all  the 
details,  and  the  givers  of  the  entertainment  have  only 
to  dress  at  home  and  repair  to  the  appointed  place  in 
time  to  receive  their  guests.  The  plan  has  its  advan- 
tages. Others,  especially  those  who  have  large  and  ele- 
gant mansions  suited  to  such  gatherings,  prefer  to  give 
their  balls  and  parties  at  their  own  houses.  Whichever 
method  be  adopted,  the  entertainment  is  sure  to  be  a 
costly  one.  Anywhere  from  $5000  to  ^20,000  must  be 
expended  on  a  fashionable  party.  The  details  are  gen- 
erally left  to  the  mistress  of  the  house;  the  liege  lord's 
share  in  the  affair  is  to  do  what  he  can  towards  making 
the  evening  pleasant,  and  pay  the  bills  without  grumb- 

Having  decided  to  give  a  party,  the  hostess  sum- 
mons to  her  aid  the  sexton  of  the  fashionable  church 
she  attends,  and  gives  him  a  list  of  the  names  of 


SCENES  AT  A  FASHIONABLE  PARTY.  209 


the  guests  she  wishes  invited.  He  has  carte  bla^iche 
to  add  to  this  the  names  of  any  desirable  young  men 
he  may  think  worthy  of  the  honor,  and  of  any  distin- 
guished strangers,  foreigners  especially,  who  may  be 
in  the  city  at  the  time.  The  late  lamented  Brown,  of 
Grace  Church,  during  his  day  enjoyed  almost  a  mo- 
nopoly of  this  business,  and  amassed  quite  a  snug  for- 
tune therefrom.  The  fashionable  sextons  all  keep  lists 
of  the  eligible  young  men  in  town,  and  are  literally  be- 
sieged for  invitations.  Some  of  them  turn  a  pretty 
penny  by  "giving'*  these  only  to  the  young  men  who 
can  afford  to  pay  for  them,  even  going  so  far  as  to  re- 
vise the  list  of  the  mistress  of  the  house,  when  it  is  to 
their  interest  to  do  so. 

The  invitations  out,  and  the  preparations  for  the  ball 
being  made,  the  hostess  turns  her  attention  to  her  own 
costume,  and  to  those  of  the  members  of  her  family. 
This  requires  much  thought  and  many  consultations 
with  the  modiste.  Society,  on  its  part,  is  engaged  in 
similar  preparations,  and  the  dry  goods  stores  and 
dressmakers  reap  a  harvest. 

Upon  the  night  of  the  entertainment  a  carpet  is 
spread  from  the  doorway  to  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk, 
and  a  temporary  awning  is  erected  over  this.  A  po- 
liceman is  provided  to  keep  off  the  crowd  of  lookers- 
on  which  such  an  occasion  invariably  draws,  and  the 
sexton  in  charge  takes  his  place  at  the  door  to  receive 
the  cards  of  invitation  as  the  guests  arrive. 

Between  nine  and  ten,  handsome  carriages,  with  ser- 
vants in  livery,  drive  up  and  deposit  their  inmates  at 
the  awning,  through  which  they  pass  into  the  house, 
delivering  their  cards  of  invitation  to  the  pompous 

14 


210 


NEW  YORK. 


sexton  at  the  door.  Thence  they  pass  to  the  dressing- 
room,  to  divest  themselves  of  their  wraps,  after  which 
they  descend  to  the  drawing-room  and  pay  their  re- 
spects to  their  host  and  hostess.  When  there  is  to  be 
dancing,  a  fine  orchestra  is  provided,  and  if  the  Ger- 
man is  to  be  danced  during  the  evening,  the  fact  is 
announced  by  placing  a  row  of  chairs  around  the  room 
and  tying  them  in  couples  with  pocket  handkerchiefs. 
But  little  dancing  is  engaged  in  during  the  earlier 
hours  of  the  evening,  this  time  being  generally  taken 
up  by  the  arrivals  of  the  guests,  and  in  promenading. 
By  a  little  before  midnight  the  parlors  are  filled  with  a 
brilliant  and  richly-dressed  throng ;  conversation  and 
laughter  rise  confusedly  on  the  heated  air ;  and  the  en- 
livening strains  of  the  musicians  fill  the  place  with  en- 
trancing melody. 

At  midnight  the  supper  rooms  are  thrown  open,  and 
the  parlors  are  at  once  deserted  for  the  tables.  Fash- 
ionable New  York  dearly  loves  these  suppers,  and 
responds  cordially  to  the  invitations  of  those  who  have 
the  reputation  of  giving  good  ones.  The  service  is  ex- 
cellent ;  the  waiters  are  either  French  or  colored,  are 
attired  as  fauldessly  as  the  gentlemen  guests,  and  in 
exact  imitation  of  them,  and  are  adepts  at  their  busi- 
ness. All  one's  wants  are  quickly  and  courteously 
supplied,  without  confusion  or  delay.  The  table  groans 
with  the  choicest  delicacies  of  the  season,  served  in  the 
most  tempting  manner.  Wine  f^ows  freely ;  as  many 
as  several  hundred  bottles  often  being  consumed  dur- 
ing the  evening.  The  ladies  drink  as  heartily  as  their 
partners,  and  one  wonders  how  they  can  stand  it  so 
well 


SMALL  TALK. 


211 


Supper  over,  the  ball-room  soon  fills  up  again  and 
the  dancing  begins  in  earnest.  If  the  German  is 
danced,  the  better  part  of  the  small  hours  of  the  morn- 
ing are  devoted  to  it.  As  the  dance  is  generally  fa- 
miliar to  our  readers,  we  shall  attempt  no  description 
of  it ;  but  will  merely  remark  that  it  seems  to  owe  its 
popularity  to  the  fact  that  it  permits  liberties  to  be 
taken  with  the  fair  sex  which  would  not  be  tolerated 
under  other  circumstances. 

During  the  intervals  of  the  dances  conversation, 
such  as  it  is,  goes  on  unflaggingly.  The  following  is  a 
verbatim  report  of  a  part  of  a  conversation  between  a 
young  lady  of  high  position  in  society  and  an  equally 
"high-toned"  young  man.  It  is  given  as  it  was  over- 
heard : — 

He.  "Aw,  Miss  Jay,  saw  you  'joying  the  races 
to-day." 

She.  "Yeth;  they're  awfully  jawly,  ain't  they? 
Right  fun  to  bet,  ain't  it?" 

He.  "Ya-as,  rawther  jawly  to  bet  when  you  win,, 
you  know  ;  but  beastly,  awfully  beastly,  to  bet  and  lose, 
you  know." 

She.  "  Did  you  lose  ?  Well,  that  wan't  so  offly  jawly. 
Lost  myself,  yest'day.  Dare  say  you'll  win  'gain  to- 
morrow, and  then  you'll  think  it  jawly  fun,  you  know." 

He.  "O!  dare  say  shall;  but  caunt  help  feelin' 
beastly  'bout  losin'  yest'day,  you  know.  Do  you  like 
boating  ?  Think  its  right  fun,  and  offly  jawly,  you 
know." 

But  we  will  not  weary  the  reader.  Towards  daylight 
the  guests  depart,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  and  some- 
times a  little  hazy  from  the  fumes  of  the  champagne 


212 


NEW  YORK. 


that  has  gotten  into  their  heads,  and  the  ball  is  oven 
Night  after  night,  during  the  season,  the  same  perform- 
ance is  repeated  at  other  houses.  No  wonder,  then, 
that  society  is  so  sorely  in  need  of  rest  and  change 
when  the  summer  comes  and  the  watering  places  open 
their  doors;  it  is  literally  worn  out. 

Some  strange  things  happen  at  these  fashionable 
gatherings.  Often  the  host  or  hostess  is  startled  by  the 
news  of  a  robbery  in  the  very  midst  of  the  festivities. 
In  most  instances  the  articles  taken  are  of  value,  such 
as  jewelry,  and  are  such  as  can  be  easily  secreted  about 
the  person.  The  criminal,  as  a  rule,  is  no  vulgar  thief, 
but  is  one  of  society's  privileged  and  envied  members. 
Two  instances,  taken  from  real  life,  will  illustrate  this. 
The  New  York  Tribune  o{]\Ay  i6th,  1877,  contained  the 
following  account  of  one  of  these  fashionable  thieves. 
We  give  it  in  the  words  of  that  journal,  not  wishing  to 
be  thought  guilty  of  exaggeration  : — 

"The  dingy  back  office  of  a  New  York,  detective 
was  the  scene  of  an  impressive  spectacle  several  weeks 
ago.  In  the  presence  of  the  gentlemen — one  a  well- 
known  detective,  the  other  a  prominent  merchant — 
knelt  a  fashionably  dressed  man  of  middle  age,  confess- 
ing a  shameful  story  of  crime,  and  imploring  mercy. 

"'I  admit  all,'  he  cried.  'I  stole  the  property,  but  I 
cannot  restore  it.  I  was  driven  to  the  deed  in  order 
to  maintain  my  position  in  society.  My  means  had 
largely  left  me,  and  I  could  not  resist  temptation.' — 

"This  statement  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the 
merchant,  who  had  known  the  speaker  long  and  favor- 
ably. To  the  detective,  however,  it  was  not  at  all  unex- 
pected, as  he  had  already  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  guilt 


FASHIONABLE  SNEAK  THIEVES. 


213 


of  the  man.  The  stealing  which  was  here  confessed  is 
one  of  those  crimes  in  the  higher  circles  of  society 
which  are  generally  kept  hidden  from  the  public. 

"In  the  early  part  of  last  December  the  family  of  a 
prominent  lawyer  living  on  Fifth  avenue  gave  a  social 
entertainment,  to  which  only  persons  of  high  standing 
in  society  were  invited.  The  following  morning  it  was 
discovered  that  rings,  watches,  and  jewelry  worth  seve^ 
ral  hundred  dollars,  were  missing.  The  most  careful 
search  and  close  examination  of  servants  forced  the 
conclusion  upon  the  family  that  the  robbery  had  been 
committed  by  some  one  of  the  guests,  although  this 
seemed  incredible,  as  every  name  upon  the  list  of  those 
present  seemed  to  forbid  the  thought  of  suspicion.  The 
affair  was  put  into  the  hands  of  private  detectives,  wTio 
were  unable,  however,  to  obtain  the  slightest  clew  to 
the  thief  or  to  the  property. 

''A  few  days  later  a  wealthy  merchant  entertained  a 
large  number  of  friends,  and  the  following  day  a  wed- 
ding ring  and  other  jewelry,  in  value  about  $1000,  but 
prized  far  more  on  account  of  family  associations,  were 
missing.  Every  nook  and  corner  of  the  house  was 
searched,  and  detectives  watched  the  servants,  but  mys- 
tery continued  to  surround  the  matter.  Meanwhile, 
another  merchant  held  a  reception  in  his  brownstone 
house  on  a  fashionable  up-town  street,  and  also  suffered 
a  loss  during  the  evening  of  jewelry,  watches,  and 
other  propert)^  valued  at  from  $200  to  $300.  The 
articles  in  this  case  were  in  a  room  where  the  gentle 
men  assembled,  and  the  theft  lay  between  some  one  of 
them  and  an  old  servant,  whom  the  master  of  the 
house  immediately  exculpated,  declaring  that  he  did 


NEW  YORK. 


not  suspect  him  in  the  least.  The  investigation  of  this 
theft  also  was  given  to  detectives,  who  visited  the  pawn- 
brokers' shops  of  this  and  other  cities,  but  none  of  the 
property  was  discovered.  An  entertainment  at  the 
residence  of  another  well  known  citizen  resulted  in  the 
disappearance  of  more  jewelry,  and  a  mystery  deeper 
than  any  of  those  already  in  the  hands  of  detectives. 

"  One  of  the  detectives  at  work  upon  these  cases, 
becoming  convinced  that  the  thief  in  each  case  was  one 
and  the  same  person,  and  moreover,  that  this  person 
was  a  member  of  the  company  at  each  party,  began  a 
systematic  course  of  action,  which  was  finally  crowned 
with  success.  The  names  of  the  ladies  and  gentlemen 
attending  all  four  of  the  parties  were  obtained,  and 
were  entered  in  his  note-book.  The  list  presented  a 
formidable  array  of  judges,  lawyers,  editors,  physicians, 
brokers,  and  other  professional  and  business  men,  and 
their  wives  and  daughters.  Upon  investigating  the 
reputations  of  these  persons  the  detective  was  at  a  loss 
to  know  whom  to  suspect,  all  of  them  having  the  full 
confidence  of  their  friends  and  the  public.  At  length  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  a  gentleman  whose  expen- 
sive social  habits  and  recent  reverses  in  business  made 
the  detective  think  that  he  was  on  the  right  track. 
This  man  is  a  down-town  broker,  now  a  member  of  a 
well-known  firm.  His  name  and  family  are  well  known 
in  this  city,  and  he  has  long  enjoyed  a  position  in  the 
very  best  society.  For  years  he  has  been  a  prominent 
club  and  society  man,  always  dressing  in  the  height  of 
fashion,  and  rendering  himself  very  agreeable  to  his 
numerous  acquaintances.  He  i^  an  unmarried  man, 
and  having  a  handsome  personal  appearance  and  at- 


HOW  A  BROKER  BECAME  A  THIEF  215 

tractive  manners,  he  is  popular  with  ladies.  He  is  a 
member  of  one  of  the  leading  regiments  of  New  York, 
and  has  sporting  tastes. 

"  It^was  discovered  that  the  broker  was  in  the  rooms 
in  the  houses  in  which  the  thefts  were  made,  and  in  the 
case  of  the  $1000  robbery,  he  and  one  of  the  judges  of 
the  Supreme  Court  were  the  only  persons  who  were 
seen  in  the  apartment  containing  the  property.  With 
this  and  other  clews  the  detective,  and  the  families  by 
which  he  was  employed,  became  convinced  that  the 
broker  was  the  thief,  and  an  anonymous  letter  was  sent 
to  him,  charging  him  with  the  stealing,  and  informing 
him  that  unless  restitution  of  the  property  was  made 
immediately,  the  circumstances  would  be  given  to  thet 
public,  and  he  would  be  handed  over  to  the  police. 
This  letter  had  the  desired  effect,  as  the  broker  at  onc(t 
appointed  a  meeting  with  the  detective,  and,  in  the 
presence  of  one  of  the  merchants  whose  residence  h(^ 
had  robbed  while  enjoying  his  hospitality,  made  a  clean 
breast  of  the  entire  matter.  The  broker,  in  telling  hi:i 
story,  said  that  he  had  not  been  doing  so  well,  finan- 
cially,  as  in  former  years,  and  it  was  necessary  for  him 
to  get  sums  of  money  from  some  source  in  order  to 
meet  his  obligations  and  social  expenses.  The  jewelr}r 
he  had  sold  for  cash,  and  it  was  now  impossible  tc» 
recover  it." 

The  broker  was  arrested  at  the  instigation  of  one  of 
the  merchants  whom  he  had  robbed,  but  through  the 
influence  of  his  relatives  and  friends  he  was  released 
on  bail,  and  the  matter  was  finally  hushed  up,  the  value 
of  the  stolen  property  being  paid. 

The  following  incident  was  reported  by  the  late 


216 


NEW  YORK. 


Samuel  McKeever,  for  one  of  the  city  journals  to  which 

he  was  attached : — 

''Investigation  has  shown  me  that  no  experienced 
lady  gives  a  party  now  without  having  among  her  black- 
coated  gentlemen  guests  a  regular  detective,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  look  as  if  he  were  enjoying  himself 
intensely,  and  to  watch  all  the  others  at  the  Same  time. 

"You  can't  blame  the  practice,  although  it  does  take 
the  bloom  off  of  hospitality,  and  makes  the  amenities 
of  fashionable  life  a  rather  ghastly  farce.  If  those  you 
invite  to  your  house  number  among  them  men  and 
women  with  the  instincts  of  footpads,  it  becomes  the 
duty  of  the  entertainer  to  protect  his  or  her  property, 
and  the  property  of  the  guests,  at  all  hazards. 

"One  of  these  detectives  was  introduced  to  me,  and 
I  had  quite  a  talk  with  him  upon  the  subject.  It  is  new 
work  for  him,  and  he  is  mightily  pleased  with  it.  His 
first  capture  was  a  woman,  a  handsome,  accomplished 
widow,  who  was  invited  as  regularly  to  every  swell 
affair  as  they  happened. 

"This  is  how  he  caught  her: 

"*It  was  about  the  first  of  October,'  he  said  'that  a 
lady  living  on  6ist  street  issued  cards  for  a  very  elegant 
reception,  on  the  occasion  of  her  daughter's  marriage. 
She  had  been  one  of  the  sufferers  from  the  fashionable 
stealing  we  have  been  talking  about,  and  she  resolved 
this  time  that  she  would  set  a  trap  for  the  mice. 

"  'So  she  drove  down  to  our  office  the  day  before — 
I  belong  to  a  private  firm  of  detectives — and  asked 
that  some  one  be  detailed  at  her  residence  for  that 
evening. 

"*I  was  selected  by  the  head  of  the  firm,  who  pre 


DETECTIVES  AT  FASHIONABLE  PARTIES.  217 


sented  me  with  regular  cards  of  invitation  that  the 
high-toned  lady  had  brought  with  her.  I  was  not  a  lit- 
tle embarrassed,  you  can  well  imagine,  for  ten  years* 
knocking  about  among  dangerous  characters,  and  being 
constantly  engaged  in  putting  up  jobs  on  the  most 
brilliant  members  of  what  we  call  the  'swell  mob,'  had 
rather  unfitted  me  for  contact  with  members  of  the 
upper  ten  thousand. 

And  I  didn't  have  a  dress  suit! 

"'But  that  was  easily  managed,  thanks  to  a  costumer 
on  the  Bower}^  and  when  I  presented  myself  at  the 
brownstone  mansion  at  about  half-past  nine,  I  flattered 
myself  I  was  quite  the  correct  thing  in  my  get-up. 

"'Necktie,  kid  gloves,  suit,  boots,  all  proclaimed  me 
the  proper  kind  of  guest.  One  thing  I  am  certain  of; 
I  wasn't  half  as  awkward  as  some  of  the  gawks  about 
me,  and  I  hadn't  been  in  the  parlors  ten  minutes  before 
I  felt  perfectly  at  my  ease. 

'"The  hostess  introduced  me  as  a  friend  of  her  late 
husband,  and  passed  me  over  to  a  heavy  old  swell,  who 
turned  out  to  be  in  the  grain  trade.  He  got  me  in  the 
corner,  and  kept  buzzing  me  for  nearly  an  hour  about 
the  crop  failures  in  England,  and  the  immense  export- 
ing advantages  it  wonld  be  to  this  country. 

"'All  this  time,  while  I  v/as  listening  to  the  aged  cove, 
and  trying  to  do  my  level  best  in  replying  to  him,  I 
didn't  forget  what  I  had  come  for.  My  eyes  went  up 
and  down  the  room  like  a  patrolman,  studying  each 
face  and  watching  keenly  if  any  of  the  guests  disap- 
peared from  the  rooms,  after  formally  entering  them. 
There  was  no  reason  for  anticipating  any  dishonest 
operation,  and  my  position  was  looked  upon,  both  by 


Ik 


218 


NEW  YORK. 


myself  and  the  lady  of  the  house,  as  a  sinecure ;  but, 
nevertheless,  I  could  not  drive  it  from  my  mind  that 
something  of  a  sensational  nature  would  turn  up  during 
the  course  of  the  evening. 
"'And  it  dkl. 

"'There  was  a  very  stylish,  vivacious,  handsome 
widow  present,  to  whom  I  had  been  introduced.  It 
struck  me  then  that  she  talked  too  much;  that  she  sur- 
rounded herself  with  a  cloud  of  conversation  which 
concealed  from  every  one  but  myself  a  certain  restless- 
ness, which  was  a  sure  indication  of  a  project  being 
evolved  in  her  brain. 

"*The  wedding  presents,  which  were  very  handsome, 
were  all  arranged  in  a  brilliantly  illuminated  room 
up  stairs,  which,  when  the  survey  of  them  was  finished, 
was  left  in  charge  of  a  faithful  negro  servant  belong- 
ing to  the  establishment.  Among  the  collection  was  a 
handsome,  rare  old  point  lace  fichu.  This  was  very 
valuable,  and  in  proportion  to  its  size,  really  the  most 
valuable  of  all. 

"'It  was  shortly  after  we  entered  the  refreshment 
room  that  the  widow  complained  of  feeling  ill.  A 
chocolate  ice  had  not  agreed  with  her,  and  the  apart- 
ment was  too  hot.  She  would  go  into  the  parlor  and 
rest  awhile.  The  time  she  chose  was  when  every 
guest  was  more  or  less  occupied  with  the  cheerful  task 
of  eating  and  drinking,  when  all  the  servants  of  the 
house,  excepting  the  one  guarding  the  presents,  were 
employed  down  stairs. 

"  *  I  looked  steadily  at  the  lady  of  the  house,  and  with 
all  the  significance  that  I  could  command.  This  was 
to  prepare  her  for  what  I  was  about  to  say,  which  was: 


THE  PRETTY  WIDOW  AND  THE  DETECTIVE.  219 

****  Hadn't  I  better  take  Mrs.  a  glass  of  wine  ?* 

Certainly ;  it  is  very  kind  of  you,'  she  replied, 
« and  tell  her  I  will  be  there  in  a  moment  to  see  if  she 
needs  anything  else.' 

"  *  As  I  had  anticipated,  the  parlor  was  empty,  and 
what  was  more  remarkable,  the  front  door  was  open. 

" '  I  went  up  the  stairs  as  swiftly  and  as  silently  as  I 
could.  When  I  reached  the  door  of  the  room  contain- 
ing the  presents,  I  detected  the  odor  of  chloroform. 

*  The  door  was  partially  closed.  I  pushed  it  open^ 
and  it  was  easily  seen  from  whence  the  scent  came. 
There  sat  the  darkey,  insensible,  in  his  chair,  his  head 
thrown  back,  his  face  covered  with  a  handkerchief. 
The  widow  was  in  the  act  of  pocketing  the  fichu,  the 
position  of  the  two  parties  in  the  room  clearly  showing 
how  she  had  stolen  on  the  negro  unawares.  I  could 
have  arrested  her  then,  but  I  had  a  great  curiosity  U\ 
see  what  her  future  movements  would  be  like  ;  so  whei  v 
she  made  a  motion  to  turn,  I  stepped  closely  back  in 
the  shadow  of  the  landing.  She  brushed  past  me,  ancl 
floated  down  the  stairs  like  a  silken  sigh,  I  after  her. 

"  '  All  this  hadn't  taken  more  than  five  minutes.  In- 
stead of  going  straight  into  the  parlor,  she  passed  to  the 
front  door,  which,  as  I  have  said,  was  open.  I  crouched 
down,  but  still  sufficiently  in  range  of  vision  to  see  he.v 
beckon  her  coachman,  who  was,  singularly  enough,  ii\ 
the  neighborhood  at  so  early  an  hour.  He  came  to  the 
stoop,  and  she  passed  him  the  fichu. 

'  Then  she  entered  the  parlor  again,  and  when  I,  in 
about  ten  seconds,  followed  her,  she  was  the  most  beau- 
tiful sick  woman,  lying  among  the  satin  cushions  of  a 
sofa,  that  I  ever  saw. 


220 


NEW  YORK. 


"  *  I  went  to  the  mantel  where  I  had  placed  the  glass 
of  wine,  and  said,  in  my  most  engaging  manner,  'Mrs. 

 sent  me  to  you  with  this,  and  her  compliments. 

Try  it ;  it  will  do  you  good.' 

"  *  There  was  no  deceiving  her.  She  saw  at  once 
that  something  terrible  had  happened.  How  came  the 
wine  to  be  in  the  parlor  ?  I  must  have  been  there  dur- 
ing her  absence.  Still,  she  did  not  give  herself  up  to 
confusion.  She  shivered  a  little,  and  said,  '  Is  there  not 
a  door  open  somewhere  ?* 

"  *  *  Yes,'  I  replied,  '  the  front  door.  Since  you  did 
not  close  it  just  now  when  you  spoke  to  your  coach- 
man, I  thought  you  desired  it  open.  Fresh  air  is  a 
good  thing  after  chloroform.' 

"  'This  ended  it.  She  looked  up  at  me  and  swooned. 
In'  the  meantime  the  hostess  and  the  guests  began  to 
arrive.  They  crowded  about  the  widow,  and  I,  taking 
advantage  of  an  opportunity  which  presented  itself,  told 
the  lady  of  the  house  what  had  occurred.  Just  as  I 
did  so,  a  servant  discovered  his  chloroform.ed  compan- 
ion, and  came  shouting  down  the  stairs. 

" '  All  was  confusion.  Four  or  five  other  ladies 
fainted  in  convenient  corners,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
theory  was  that  the  establishment  had  been  entered  by 
means  of  a  skeleton  key,  and  that  perhaps  even  now 
every  closet  was  jammed  with  burglars  and  murderers. 
I  know  that  we  had  a  jolly  good  search  all  over  the 
house.  The  bride  was  at  first  terribly  annoyed  at  the 
loss,  but  when  her  mother  told  .her  the  circumstances, 
dumb  horror  and  surprise  took  possession  of  her. 

"  Tf  I  hadn't  been  there  the  plan  would  have  worked 
beautifully.    The  front  door  was  opened  for  three  rea- 


m 


THE  COACHMAN  ACCOMPLICE. 


221 


sons — to  communicate  with  the  coachman,  to  start  the 
theory  of  a  sneak  thief,  and  to  have  blown  away  what- 
ever dehcate  traces  of  chloroform  may  have  clung  to 
the  widow's  dress. 

"  *  I  saw  the  pretty  widow  home  that  night  in  her  own 
carriage.  When  we  were  a  block  away  from  the 
house,  I  made  her  get  the  stolen  article  from  the  dri- 
ver. He  was  thunderstruck  at  the  request,  and  was 
very  much  worried  at  my  presence.  I  returned  the 
loot,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  the  story.' 
'  Didn't  they  prosecute  her?' 

"  *  No  ;  what  was  the  use.  They  got  the  fichu — the 
fish-hook,  as  I  always  call  it — but  they  let  the  fish  off. 
Such  things  are  not  stealing  among  the  way  up — it's 
kleptomania.' 

"  *  But  the  coachman,' — 

"'He  wasn't  a  real  coachman,  anymore  than  she 
was  a  real  widow.  They  were  man  and  wife,  but  he 
could  work  better  as  coachman.' 

" '  Then  this  was  their  regular  business.' 

" '  Been  at  it  for  years.  I  squeezed  Mr.  Coachman 
on  my  own  account,  and  got  over  one  hundred  pawn 
tickets  from  him,  making  quite  a  neat  'spec'  by  offer- 
ing to  return  goods  to  parties  if  no  questions  were 
asked.  Altogether,  my  first  evening  among  the  '  lum- 
tums'  panned  out  well.' 

IV. 

FASHIONABLE  RECEPTIONS. 

Every  lady  of  fashion  in  New  York  has  a  certain 
day  of  the  week  set  apart  on  which  she  receives  her 
"dear  five  hundred  friends."    At  such  times  she  is  "at 


222  NEW  YORK. 

home"  to  all  her  acquaintances  of  both  sexes,  who  may 
wish  to  call.  These  are  very  select  affairs,  and  are 
occasions  for  the  display  of  magnificent  costumes  by 
the  lady  visitors.  Few  gentlemen  are  present,  the 
hours  being  generally  from  four  to  six,  a  period  of  the 
day  when  the  male  creature  is  occupied  with  other 
matters;  so  the  ladies  usually  have  the  field  to  them- 
selves. On  such  occasions  any  man  who  may  happen 
to  be  present  is  pretty  sure  of  being  the  centre  of  a 
circle  of  attraction,  not  because  of  any  particular  merit 
in  himself,  but  simply  because  he  is  a  creature  who 
does  not  wear  petticoats.  A  correspondent  of  The 
Queen,  the  London  "Lady's  Newspaper,"  thus  describes 
one  of  these  gatherings: — 

"Of  course  the  awning  is  up,  and  it  is  something 
better  than  a  roof  on  poles,  being  a  completely  enclosed 
passage,  sides,  roof,  floor  and  all,  complete,  running 
down  to  the  curb,  so  that  no  wind  or  rain  can  penetrate 
it.  The  crowd  of  curious  ragamuffins  is  thus  dispensed 
with,  and  the  kid  boots  and  the  front  hair — which,  by 
the  way,  is  always  frizzled,  or  crimped  or  curled  in  some 
loose  \i^ay,  on  the  American  female  head — protected 
from  the  ravages  of  the  elements.  The  first  figure  we 
see  is  a  remarkable  one.  Standing  on  the  steps  is  a 
portly  man,  with  pompous  aids,  the  sexton  of  some 
fashionable  temple,  who  by  virtue  of  his  office  holds  an 
/  unassailable  position  in  New  York  society.  He  is  a 
kind  of  social  factotum  at  all  parties  of  consideration. 

"New  York  houses  are  mostly  somewhat  narrow — 
three  or  four  rooms  on  the  ground  floor,  one  behind 
the  other  and  with  folding  doors  thrown  open,  and  per- 
haps one  or  two  rooms  on  the  first  floor,  form  the  recep- 


FASHIONABLE  RECEPTIONS. 


223 


tion  apartment,  into  which,  without  individual  announce- 
ment, we  are  ushered.  It  is  an  inconvenient  but  very 
general  custom  here,  even  if  you  are  making  a  call,  for 
the  man  to  say,  'Step  right  into  the  parlor,  sir,'  indi- 
cating the  room  and  leaving  you  to  obtrude  your  unan- 
nounced presence  on  its  occupants.  This  may  be 
awkward,  but  any  young  lady  who  doesn't  like  it  can 
remedy  it.  Possibly  this  reception  is  given,  as  is  the 
custom  here,  in  addition  to  a  ball,  to  celebrate  the 
'coming  out'  of  a  daughter  of  the  house.  If  so,  she  has 
some  of  her  friends  to  receive  with  her,  who  have  their 
bonnets  off  and  move  round  the  room,  introducing 
where  it  is  necessary — always  called  'presenting'  in  this 
country^ — and  performing  all  those  little  offices  which 
are  almost  too  much  for  one  hostess.  It  is  a  good 
plan,  and  quite  frequent  here,  for  the  hostess  to  have 
other  ladies  to  receive  with  her,  as  besides  the  air  of 
comfort  and  familiarit)',  it  gives  a  certain  'go'  to  what 
would  otherwise  be  rather  a  slow  and  formal  affair. 
The  cards  have  'four  to  six '  on  them,  and,  of  course,  in 
the  winter  gas  is  necessary  all  over  the  house.  The 
effect  of  the  brilliantly  lighted  and  decorated  rooms  is 
enriched  by  a  throng  of  women  dressed  up  to  their  eyes 
and  full  of  gayety.  Over  all  these  is  an  aspect  of  high 
spirits  and  animation,  which  would  strike  an  English 
visitor  more  than  anything  else. 

"The  air  of  general  animation  over  a  part}^  here, 
composed  of  a  different  class  of  people,  is,  perhaps,  not 
excepting  beaut^^  its  most  charming  element ;  it  is  the 
aggregate  effect  of  the  individual  vivacity  and  piquancy 
af  the  American  female  character,  which,  in  its  best 
representatives,  seems  to  add  these  traits  to  all  that  is 


224 


NEW  YORK. 


estimable  in  English  women — a  tolerably  bold  state- 
ment, I  fear,  for  your  columns.  Observe  this  young 
lady  here,  on  the  sofa,  a  belle,  and  considered  'bright,' 
but  there  are  many  like  her  in  the  room.  Her  beauty 
and  grace,  her  complexion  and  dress,  we  will  put  on 
one  side  or  wont  mention,  as  the  Irish  writer  puts  it; 
but  mark  her  sparkling  face  and  genial  good  humor  as 
she  talks,  the  felicity  of  her  language,  the  readiness  of 
her  repartee,  always  delicate,  but  generally  with  a 
dehcious  Httle  dash  of  satire;  the  clearness  of  her 
ideas,  the  tact  with  which  she  draws  out  her  companion, 
to  show  his  best  points,  and  the  generally  unaffected 
ease  with  which  she  sustains  a  lengthened  conversation 
on  any  subject  under  the  sun,  with  fool  or  wise  man. 
Mr.  Editor,  they  are  a  wonderful  race  are  these  Ameri- 
can women;  but  one  word  about  the  flowers,  this  after- 
noon, and  I  shall  have  done.  The  rooms  are  covered 
with  them  in  every  shape  and  variety  of  tasteful 
arrangement.  Wreaths  of  the  fresh  and  graceful 
smilax — a  fern  which  I  have  not  seen  in  England,  but 
which  is  admirably  adapted  to  decoration — interspersed 
with  flowers,  depend  from  the  chandeliers,  cornices, 
and  mantelpieces.  A  magnificent  cornucopia  of  all 
kinds  of  flowers,  perfect  in  formation  and  in  the  blend- 
ing of  color,  stands  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  In  the 
next,  where  the  chandelier  is  hung,  is  a  large,  loosely 
made  ball,  nearly  a  yard  in  diameter,  of  different-colored 
flowers,  and  embedded  in  it  on  either  side,  also  formed 
of  flowers,  is  a  graceful  H,  the  initial  letter  of  the 
daughters  name  for  whom  the  reception  is  given. 
Plateaus  of  flowers  stand  against 'the  walls  and  hang 
from  the  pictures,  while  the  mantelpieces  are  buds  of 


FASHIONABLE  WEDDINGS. 


225 


moss  and  fern,  in  which  rare  exotics  are  growing,  or 
drooping  plants  form  a  natural  fringe  toward  the  effect 
of  freshness,  light,  and  nature's  beauty  that  this  floral 
wealth  gives  to  rooms  which,  without  it,  have  nothing 
to  depend  on  but  art.  It  is  the  great  forte  of  Ameri- 
can entertainment.  Flowers  are  very  dear  in  winter, 
but  no  cost  is  spared  to  secure  their  display." 

V. 

FASHIONABLE  WEDDINGS. 

The  Roman  Catholic  Church  teaches  that  the  "holy 
estate  of  Matrimony"  is  a  sacrament,  and  the  Protest- 
ant Churches  hold  that  it  is  "honorable  among  all  men; 
and  therefore  is  not  to  be  entered  into  unadvisedly  or 
lightly,  but  reverently,  discreetly,  advisedly,  soberly, 
and  in  the  fear  of  God."  New  York  fashionable 
society  regards  it  as  a  financial  matter,  to  be  regulated 
and  arranged  upon  strict  business  principles.  True, 
there  may  be  affection  on  one  or  both  sides,  and  many 
happy  marriages  are  contracted  in  this  class ;  but  it  may 
be  laid  down  as  a  general  rule  that  fashionable  mar- 
riages are  arranged  with  regard  to  the  amount  of 
money  on  one  or  both  sides.  Men  who  have  risen  to 
wealth  often  make  the  marriao^e  of  a  son  or  dauofhter 
the  means  of  getting  their  families  within  the  sacred  pale 
of  fashionable  society.  Again,  there  are  many  aristo- 
cratic families,  genuine  Knickerbockers,  who  have  run 
down  in  wealth,  and  are  unable  to  provide  for  a  son  or 
daughter.  With  all  their  blue  blood,  they  know  they 
cannot  maintain  their  places  in  society  without  money. 
That  must  be  had,  and  the  only  way  to  procure  it  is  to 

15 


226 


NEW  YORK. 


arrange  a  marriage  for  their  child  with  an  offspring  of 
one  of  the  "  Newly  Rich."  It  may  be  a  bitter  pill  to 
swallow,  but  it  has  to  be  done.  The  money  that  will 
thus  be  brought  into  the  family  will  enable  their  child 
to  keep  his  or  her  accustomed  place  in  society,  and,  of 
course,  Papa  and  Mamma  will  not  be  allowed  to  suffer. 
So  a  desirable  partner  is  sought.  Personal  qualifica- 
tions, such  as  beauty,  intelligence,  education,  or  refine- 
ment, are  not  considered;  money  is  the  sole  desideratum^ 
and  every  effort  is  made  to  secure  as  rich  a  match  as 
possible.  The  acquaintance  of  some  wealthy  shoddy 
family  is  formed;  every  social  attention  is  showered 
upon  them  ;  the  intimacy  of  the  Knickerbockers  opens 
the  way  for  them  into  the  most  exclusive  circles  of  fash- 
ionable life,  and  they  are  made  to  taste  the  sweets  of 
this  seventh  heaven  to  their  utmost.  The  "Newly 
Rich"  are  delighted;  their  proudest  hopes  are  realized; 
they  rank  among  the  most  select  families  of  New  York, 
and  at  last  are  at  the  very  summit  of  fashionable  fame. 
When  the  proper  moment  arrives,  Knickerbocker 
squarely  proposes  to  Shoddy  that  the  two  families, 
already  so  intimate,  shall  be  bound  to  each  other  by  a 
still  stronger  tie,  in  the  marriage  of  their  children. 
Shoddy,  in  delight,  accepts  the  proposition,  and  the 
matter  is  arranged  by  the  heads  of  the  respective  fami- 
lies before  the  young  people  are  informed  of  the  good 
fortune  in  store  for  them.  The  parents  have  too  much 
confidence  in  the  good  sense  of  their  children  to  appre- 
hend any  opposition.  Young  as  they  are,  they  will  be 
sure  to  see  the  advantages  of  a  match  which  will  bring 
with  it  fortune  to  one  and  a  secured  social  position  to 
the  other.    The  young  fashionables  of  the  great  city 


HOW  FASHIONABLE  MARRIAGES  ARE  ARRANGED.  227 

are  very  wise  in  their  generation,  as  regards  money. 
They  have  been  taught  and  appreciate  its  power.  The 
one  cannot  afford  to  throw  away  such  a  brilHant  chance 
for  social  distinction,  and  the  other  shudders  at  the 
thought  of  stepping  down  from  the  place  so  long  occu- 
pied, and  giving  up  the  power  and  distinction  that 
wealth  brings  with  it.  Tender  ties  may  have  been 
formed  by  one  or  both,  in  some  other  direction;  but 
these  are  remorselessly  severed,  and  the  "sensible" 
young  people  fall  into  the  arrangement  of  their  parents, 
and  meekly  submit  to  the  inevitable.  After  all,  what 
matters  it.  The  marriage  yoke,  as  they  see,  sits  loosely 
upon  those  of  their  acquaintance  who  bear  it.  Why 
should  it  be  different  with  them?  So  the  matter  is 
arranged,  the  marriage  is  solemnized,  and  society  is 
delighted  with  the  splendid  match. 

Again,  fashionable  marriages  are  often  arranged  with 
regard  to  the  business  advantages  that  will  follow 
them.  Two  fortunes  combined  are  more  powerful  than 
either  could  be  singly,  and  as  wealth  is  the  great  power 
in  New  York,  it  is  well  to  concentrate  as  much  as  pos- 
sible in  one  family.  So  the  sale  of  hearts  and  hands 
goes  on  from  year  to  year,  and  paves  the  way  for  more 
of  the  domestic  infelicity  that  makes  fashionable  life  so 
hollow  and  empty. 

Oftentimes  one  of  the  Newly  Rich  deliberately  seeks 
out  some  man  of  assured  position,  and  offers  him  'the 
hand  of  his  daughter,  and  a  handsome  fortune  with 
it.  The  condition  of  the  bargain  is  that  the  gentleman, 
on  his  part,  shall  do  all  in  his  power  to  secure  every 
social  advantage  for  the  family  of  the  lady.  The  girl 
may  be  handsome  and  clever,  or  the  reverse,  but  if 


1^. 


228  NEW  YORK. 

the  sum  tendered  is  sufficiently  large,  the  offer  is  rarely 
refused. 

When  an  engagement  is  contracted,  it  is  promptly 
announced  in  one  of  the  "Society  journals,"  of  which 
there  are  several  in  New  York.  Then  the  marriage 
is  hurried  forward  with  as  much  speed  as  is  consistent 
with  propriety.  The  ceremony,  of  course,  is  celebrated 
at  a  fashionable  church.  To  be  married  from  St. 
Thomas'  or  Grace  Church  is  to  enjoy  the  highest  social 
distinction  on  such  occasions.  Invitations  are  sent  out  to 
fashionable  friends,  and  at  the  appointed  time  the 
church  is  filled  with  a  throng  of  magnificently  dressed 
ladies,  and  gentlemen  in  the  regulation  full  dress. 
Two  or  more  clergymen  are  present  to  tie  the  knot, 
and  a  reporter  of  one  of  the  city  dailies  is  on  hand  to 
"write  up"  the  wedding  in  the  most  glowing  terms. 
Evening  is  generally  the  time  chosen  for  the  ceremony, 
as  gaslight  is  more  favorable  than  daylight  for  showing 
off  the  toilettes  of  the  bridal  party  and  the  invited 
guests. 

The  English  style  is  now  the  "correct  thing"  at 
fashionable  weddings.  At  the  appointed  hour  the 
organ  breaks  forth  into  the  exquisite  strains  of  the 
"Bridal  Chorus,"  from  Lohengrin,  and  the  bridegroom 
enters  from  the  vestry  room,  accompanied  by  his  "best 
man,"  and  takes  his  place  before  the  altar  rail,  while 
the  clergy  file  into  the  church  and,  stand  ready  to 
perform  their  functions.  Then  the  great  doors  of  the  . 
church  are  thrown  open,  and  the  bridal  party  enters, 
led  by  the  bride,  in  full  dress,  on  the  arm  of  her  father. 
The  places  are  taken  at  the  altar  rail,  the  groom  re- 
ceives the  bride  from  her  father's  hands,  and  the  cere- 


GUARDING  THE  BRIDAL  PRESENTS. 


229 


mony  begins,  the  organ  all  the  while  filling  the  church 
with  a  low  undertone  of  delicious  harmony. 

The  ceremony  over,  the  bridal  party  returns  to  the 
residence  of  the  bride,  where  the  intimate  friends  of 
the  two  families  quickly  assemble  to  offer  their  con- 
gratulations, inspect  the  wedding  presents,  and  partake 
of  the  banquet  that  is  generally  served.  The  pres- 
ents are  displayed  in  a  room  set  apart  for  the 
purpose,  and  are  always  handsome,  and  sometimes 
magnificent.  Experience  has  taught  the  master  of  the 
house  that  even  fashionable  New  York  cannot  be 
trusted  alone  with  so  many  costly  articles,  and  a  de- 
tective is  generally  on  hand  to  look  after  their  safety. 

Yet  it  is  not  professional  thieves  that  those  who  get 
up  fashionable  entertainments  chiefly  fear.  The  most 
dangerous  class,  because  the  most  numerous,  are  in- 
cluded among  the  invited  guests,  and  are  called,  when 
detected,  kleptomaniacs. 

For  almost  every  large  and  fashionable  wedding 
there  is  a  request  made  upon  Inspector  Byrnes,  in 
charge  of  the  Detective  Bureau  at  the  Police  Central 
Office,  for  an  officer  to  watch  the  array  of  presents, 
and  in  general  to  protect  the  house  and  its  guests  from 
loss  by  theft.  Among  the  Central  Office  detectives  on 
whom  this  duty  frequently  falls  is  George  W.  Lanthier. 
He  is  a  young  man  of  good  address  and  appearance, 
who  wears  a  fine  diamond  in  his  shirt  front,  and  whose 
clothes  fit  him.  His  fellow  detectives  say  that  when 
he  is  arrayed  in  a  Prince  Albert  coat,  with  silk  facings, 
for  an  afternoon  wedding,  there  is  nothing  left  to  be 
asked  for  by  the  most  critical  observer,  but  when  he 
appears  attired  in  full  costume  for  an  evening  wedding 


230 


NEW  YORK. 


or  reception,  language  fails.  Mr.  Lanthier  was  sought 
out  recently.  He  said  his  duties  were  simple,  and  for 
the  most  part  agreeable. 

"The  first  thing  I  do,"  he  said,  "when  I  go  to  a 
reception,  is  to  take  a  look  through  the  house,  up 
and  down  stairs,  in  order  to  acquaint  myself  with  the 
different  rooms  as  well  as  with  the  position  of  valuable 
articles.  For  this  reason  I  usually  go  a  short  time  be- 
fore  the  guests  are  expected.  While  the  guests  are 
arriving  I  usually  stand  in  the  hall  to  watch  them  as 
they  enter.  I  am  very  apt  to  know  a  professional  thief 
by  his  face.  Where  the  presents  are  very  numerous 
and  valuable  I  generally  have  the  smaller  ones,  such 
as  the  diamonds  and  other  jewelry  which  a  person 
could  pocket  and  carry  away  readily,  put  on  a  table 
by  themselves.  Then  I  take  a  seat  near  them.  I  an:v 
supposed,  by  most  of  those  who  see  me,  to  be  a  guest. 
If  anybody  guesses  otherwise,  I  am  contented  they 
should  have  their  opinion.  I  inform  myself  about  the 
presents,  and  when  guests  come  up  to  inspect  them, 
they  naturally  fall  to  talking,  to  express  their  admira- 
tion. I  am  able  to  tell  them  about  the  presents.  One 
guest,  therefore,  sees  me  talking  with  another,  and  he 
is  not  likely  to  remark  that  I  remain  in  one  part  of  the. 
room  all  the  afternoon  or  evening.  If  I  sat  still  and 
said  nothing,  I  would  soon  become  an  object  of  notice. 

Stories  are  told  by  detectives,  of  ladies,  whose  fami- 
lies are  of  the  highest  respectability,  whom  they  have 
pointed  out  to  the  givers  of  entertainments  as  having 
stolen  valuable  presents.  In  several  cases  related  by 
the  detective^  the  valuables  were  recovered  under 
threats  of  arrest,  and  scandals  >resulted.     In  others, 


FASHIONABLE  WEDDING  PRESENTS. 


231 


the  host  was  unwilling  to  make  accusations,  preferring" 
to  avoid  the  scandal  that  would  follow  an  exposure. 
In  one  case  a  lady  fainted  when  she  was  accused.  She 
would  not  confess,  and  she  was  not  searched,  but  it 
was  afterwards  said  a  diamond  ring  was  returned  by 
her  father,  an  action  which  the  detective  who  told  the 
story  criticised  as  inexcusably  simple  on  the  father's 
part,  if  he  had  in  view  merely  the  reputation  of  his 
daughter.  It  is  said  that  several  series  of  thefts  have 
been  committed  by  young  men  so  fascinated  with  so- 
ciety life  that  they  lived  beyond  their  means,  and  at 
last  were  driven  by  what  appeared  to  them  necessity, 
to  steal. 

A  fashionable  wedding  is  a  costly  affair,  not  only  to 
thfi  families  immediately  concerned  with  it,  but  alsq 
to  their  friends  who  are  honored  with  invitations. 
Thousands  of  dollars  are  spent  upon  the  outfits  of  the 
"happy  pair;"  and  the  fees  to  the  clergyman,  the 
sexton,  the  organist  and  attendants  at  the  church,  and 
the  cost  of  the  festivities  after  the  ceremony,  make  up 
an  enormous  sum.  The  friends  of  both  families  are 
expected  to  send  handsome  presents,  and  as  these  are 
always  put  on  exhibition  with  the  cards  of  the  givers 
attached,  they  are  always  elegant  and  costly.  A  few 
years  ago,  at  the  wedding  of  one  of  the  daughters  of  a 
leading  politician,  the  wedding  presents  amounted  in 
value  to  more  than  $250,000.  When  it  is  remembered 
that  marriages  in  fashionable  life  are  numerous  each 
year,  it  will  be  easy  to  understand  what  a  tax  upon  the 
friends  of  the  happy  pair  this  present-giving  amounts 
to.  It  is  a  sort  of  fashionable  "black  mail"  which 
society  levies  upon  its  members. 


232 


NEW  YORK. 


FASHIONABLE  DEATH. 

As  only  the  rich  can  afford  to  Hve  in  New  York 
society,  so  only  the  rich  can  afford  to  die  in  it.  Death 
is  an  expensive  luxury  in  the  great  city,  and  a  fashion- 
able funeral  generally  costs  as  much  as  a  comfortable 
dwelling  in  one  of  our  smaller  cities.  In  nothing, 
probably,  is  the  law  of  fashion  more  rigorously  enforced 
than  in  the  burial  of  the  dead.  Music  and  flowers  are 
as  necessary  at  a  funeral  as  at  a  wedding,  and  the 
body  must  be  attired  for  its  final  resting-place  with  the 
utmost  care.  The  best  of  kid  gloves  must  be  furnished 
to  the  pall  bearers,  and  carriages  must  be  provided  in 
which  the  relatives  and  friends  may  ride  to  the  cem- 
etery. If  the  funeral  ceremonies  be  held  at  a  church, 
and  it  is  one  of  the  strictest  laws  of  fashion  that  they 
shall  be,  the  sexton  must  not  be  neglected,  nor  the 
organist  and  choir  go  unrewarded,  and  unless  a  hand- 
some fee  is  given,  the  personal  attendance  of  the 
undertaker  cannot  be  secured.  Lots  in  fitst-class 
cemeteries  are  costly,  and  it  is  indispensable  that  a 
handsome  and  expensive  monument  of  marble  or 
granite  should  be  erected  over  the  grave.  And 
besides  all  these  expenses^  mourning  apparel  is  ab- 
solutely necessary;  each  member  of  the  family  of  the 
deceased  person,  and  all  of  his  or  her  near  relatives, 
must  be  clad  in  black,  for  in  society,  crape  is  both  an 
indication  and  a  measure  of  fashionable  grief.  These 
various  items  swell  the  bill  for  funeral  expenses  to  an 
enormous  aggregate. 

The  undertakers'  charges  are  very  high.  Rosewood 
caskets  vary  in  price,  according  to  the  trimmings,  from 
$90  to  $150;  those  trimmed  with  black  or  blue  velvet 


FASHIONABLE  FUNERALS. 


233 


are  worth  as  much  as  $250,  $300,  and  $400,  or  even 
more.  A  wooden  casket,  covered  with  cloth,  costs 
^125.  Coffin  handles  are  an  additional  expense  ;  eight 
handles  are  worth  from  ^10  to  $20,  while  full  exten- 
sion handles,  extending  along  both  sides  of  the  coffin, 
are  worth  ^30.  Coffin  plates  of  a  variety  of  shapes — 
shields,  crosses,  square  and  oval — cost  from  to  ^12, 
including  engraving. 

The  box  in  which  the  coffin  is  inclosed  before  it  is 
placed  in  the  grave  costs  $5,  and  when  this  is  taken  to 
the  cemetery  in  advance,  in  order  that  the  beauty  and 
richness  of  the  casket  may  be  seen  through  the  glass 
plates  of  the  open  hearse,  an  additional  charge  of  $3.50 
is  made.  From  ^9  to  $1 2  is  charged  for  the  use  of  the 
hearse,  and  the  price  of  a  carriage  to  Calvary  Cemetery 
is  $6;  to  Greenwood,  $7;  and  to  Woodlawn,  $11. 
The  charge  for  ice-coffins  varies  from  ^12  to  $18. 
Scarfs  are  worth  $7  or  $8,  and  gloves  for  the  pall-bear- 
ers cost  $2.50  a  pair.  Shrouds  are  made  of  lawn  or 
merino,  and  vary  in  price  from  ^3  to  $40.  When  a 
body  is  deposited  in  a  vault,  an  engraved  copper  plate 
is  usually  procured,  the  price  being  about  $2.  The 
personal  attendance  of  an  undertaker  is  worth  from  $i 
to  $50,  and  porters  to  carry  the  coffin  from  the  house 
to  the  hearse  are  paid  $1.50  each ;  if  they  also  accom- 
pany the  friends  to  the  church,  their  services  are  worth 
$2.50  for  each.  For  his  services  in  opening  the  church, 
tolling  the  bell,  and  attending  to  his  duties  as  usher, 
the  sexton  is  paid  from  ^10  to  $20,  and  the  choir  and 
organist  are  paid  from  $40  to  $50  for  the  funeral 
march  and  other  music.  The  amount  of  money  ex- 
pended for  flowers  is  very  large  in  many  cases.  Large 


234 


NEW  YORK. 


wreaths  and  crosses  cost  from  $5  to  $10,  and  large 
crowns  from  $1 5  to  $20.  It  is  not  an  unusual  thing  for 
from  $600  to  $800  to  be  expended  in  procuring  and 
preserving  flowers,  and  more  than  $2000  has  been  spent 
for  this  purpose  on  the  occasion  pf  a  single  burial. 
Grief  most  generally  expresses  itself  thus  extravagantly 
in  the  cases  of  young  widows  of  rich  old  husbands. 

The  expenses  which  have  been  thus  far  enumerated 
include  only  those  which  enter  into  the  undertaker's 
bill/  At  the  cemetery  the  cost  of  a  lot  swells  the 
expenditure,  and  it  is  no  inconsiderable  amount.  At 
Greenwood  each  lot  contains  378  square  feet.  Its 
form  depends  upon  the  surface  of  the  ground,  and  may 
be  circular,  oval,  oblong,  square,  or  irregular.  The 
situation  determines  the  value;  the  prices  vary  generally 
from  $500  to  ^800,  although  some  in  specially  desir- 
able places  are  valued  at  $1000.  Half,  third,  and 
quarter  lots  are  sold  at  $275,  ^200,  and  $155  each  and 
upward,  according  to  situation.  Entire  lots  of  a  quad- 
rangular form,  fourteen  feet  by  twenty-seven  feet, 
admit  fifteen  graves  each;  half  lots  contain  six  graves, 
third  lots  four  graves,  and  quarter  lots  three  graves. 
At  Woodlawn  a  somewhat  different  system  is  pursued. 
Ground  in  the  cemetery  is  sold  at  prices  ranging  from 
80  cents  to  $2  a  square  foot,  and  the  shape  and  size  of 
lots  vary  with  the  extent  of  the  purchase  and  the  for- 
mation of  the  ground.  Half  lots,  however,  are  sold 
for  ^187.50  and  20,  according  to  situation,  and 
quarter  lots  for  $60.  But  in  all  cases  where  fractional 
lots  are  purchased,  granite  corner  posts  must  be  pro- 
cured, the  prices  for  which  are  $9  for  half  lots  and  ^^4 
for  quarter  lots. 


FUNERAL  EXPENSES. 


235 


The  ordinary  depth  of  graves  is  six  feet,  although 
some  are  dug  seven,  eight,  nine,  and  even  ten  feet  in 
depth.  The  usual  charge  for  opening  a  grave  is  $5  for 
adults  and  $4.  for  children.  At  both  Greenwood  and 
Woodlawn  the  cost  of  an  interment  in  the  receiving 
vault  is  $25.  If  the  body  is  removed  in  three  months  $20 
will  be  returned,  but  it  will  be  buried  in  a  lot  provided  for 
that  purpose  if  not  removed  in  three  months  at  Wood- 
lawn,  and  in  six  months  at  Greenwood.  This  rule  was  made 
because  a  few  years  ago  the  receiving  tomb  at  Green- 
wood became  overcrowded  on  account  of  the  low  charge 
for  depositing  a  body  in  it.  But  as  the  demand 
increased,  prices  advanced,  and  the  market  naturally 
corrected  itself  precisely  as  demand  and  supply  regu* 
late  other  markets.  Single  graves  in  either  of  these, 
cemeteries  can  be  procured  for  J25,  but  at  the  Ceme^ 
tery  of  the  Evergreens,  and  at  Cypress  Hills,  the  price 
of  a  single  grave  is  $12.  For  opening  a  vault  $4  is 
charged  at  Greenwood,  and  $3  at  Woodlawn.  In  both 
these  cemeteries  a  person  who  purchases  but  does  non 
wish  to  use  an  entire  lot,  may  sell  a  portion  of  it,  bu(5 
speculation  and  ''corners"  in  lots  are  prevented  by  the 
fact  that  if  an  exorbitant  price  is  demanded  the  pur- 
chaser will  find  it  much  cheaper  to  buy  from  the  trustees 
of  the  cemetery  than  from  an  individual  lot  owner.  Ax 
Woodlawn  a  receiving  lot  is  provided  for  those  who 
choose  this  method  of  sepulture  in  preference  to  the 
receiving  tombs.  The  price  of  a  grave  in  the  receiv- 
ing lot  is  $38  for  an  adult,  and  $30  for  a  child. 

Another  matter  of  expenditure  closely  connected 
with  the  funeral  is  the  tombstone  or  monument.  In 
these  there  is  a  countless  variety  in  material  and  de- 


236 


NEW  YORK. 


sign,  from  the  plain  marble  slab,  entirely  destitute  of 
ornament,  to  the  elegant  and  highly-polished  shaft  of 
Scotch  granite.  The  material  from  which  the  majority 
of  tombstones  are  made  is  Italian  marble:  The  native 
American  marble  is  not  sufficiently  firm  to  withstand 
exposure  to  the  weather.  Quincy  granite  is  exten- 
sively used,  as  is  also  the  granite  from  Aberdeen, 
Scotland.  In  localities  adjacent  to  quarries  of  brown- 
stone,  that  article  is  used  for  the  construction  of  monu- 
ments, but  it  is  objectionable,  because  it  rapidly 
becomes  covered  with  moss.  Tombstones  of  marble 
can  be  obtained  for  J 15,  and  from  this  the  prices  range 
to  $450.  Occasionally  as  much  as  $600  is  paid  for  a 
tombstone,  but  generally  when  so  large  an  amount 
as  this  is  expended  a  monument  is  purchased.  The 
tombstones  are  generally  placed  on  a  block  of  granite, 
and  the  foundation  must  be  placed  below  the  reach  of 
frost.  The  price  is  affected  by  differences  in  the  style 
of  ornamentation,  crosses,  wreaths,  anchors,  urns,  palls, 
and  figures  of  many  sorts  being  carved  in  the  marble. 
A  marble  monument,  fifteen  feet  in  height,  without  any 
ornamentation,  cannot  be  bought  for  less  than  $900. 
The  price  of  monuments  of  Ouincy  granite  is  fifteen 
per  cent,  more  than  those  of  Italian  marble,  and  Scotch 
granite  is  more  costly  still.  The  latter  is  greatly  in 
demand,  because  of  the  high  polish  of  which  it  is 
capable,  but  there  is  an  ad  valorem  duty  of  twenty 
per  cent,  on  it,  which  only  the  deepest  grief  consents 
to  pay.  In  the  vicinity  of  New  York  there  are  monu- 
ments of  Scotch  granite  which  cost  ^10,000,  and  a 
number  of  Ouincy  granite  monuments  varying  in  value 
from  $500  to  $20,000.    The  Canda  monument  is  made 


COST  OF  A  FASHIONABLE  FUNERAL.  237 


of  Italian  marble,  and  cost  ^40,000.  Vaults  are  also 
expensive.  The  prices  of  those  in  Greenwood  and 
Woodlawn,  and  also  in  Calvary  Cemetery,  var)'  from 
$3000  to  $15,000,  and  there  is  one  in  Trinity  Cemetery 
which  cost  $50,000. 

From  these  facts  the  following  schedule  of  the  cost 
of  a  first-class  funeral  on  the  American  plan  may  be 
adduced : 


I  Rosewood  coffin,  lined  with  velvet,  $300 

I  Coffin-plate  (name,  and  all  the  virtues  engraved  gratis),  -  -  12 
8  Full  extension  silver-plated  handles,  -----  30 
I  Coffin-box,  to  protect  coffin,     -  S 

I  Ice-box  (second-hand),  15 

I  Shroud,  --.--.25 

I  Hearse,  -      -  10 

10  Coaches  to  Greenwood,    -       --      --  -.-70 

8  Pairs  gloves  to  pall-bearers,  20 
8  Scarfs  for  pall-bearers  and  one  for  the  door,    -       -       •       -  lo 
I  Undertaker's  fee  for  personal  attendance,    -       -       -       -  25 

4  Porters  to  carry  out  coffin,  -       -       -       >  6 

I  Sexton  at  church,  -       -       --       --       --       -  15 

I  Organist  and  choir,  ---------40 

Flowers,  ----       -  100 

I  Lot  in  Greenwood,  600 

I  Grave-digger,  -       -  5 

1  Monument,  home  manufacture,  of  Ouincy  granite,  -      -      -  900 


Total,       -       --      -  $2191 


Well,  after  all,  the  power  of  money,  the  might  of 
fashion,  cease  at  the  grave.  Beyond  that  dreary  portal 
to  the  unknown  world  — ;  but  society  does  not  bother 
its  head  about  these  things. 

After  the  funeral  is  over,  none  of  the  feminine  be- 
reaved ones  can  be  seen  for  a  certain  length  of  time,  the 
period  of  their  seclusion  being  fixed  by  a  rigid  law. 


238 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  'XIII. 

THE  STREET  RAILWAYS. 

THE   PRESENT   STREET-RAILWAY  SYSTEM— IMMENSE    BUSINESS    DONE  BY  THE  SURFACE  ROADS—. 
EXPENSES   AND   RECEIPTS — HOW  THE  ELEVATED  ROADS  HAVE  AFFECTED  THE  HORSE  RAI^^- 
WA,VS — DISCOMFORTS  OF  THE  STREET  CARS — THE   CONDUCTORS  AND  DRIVERS — STOR^   OF  A 
conductor's  lot — HARD  WORK  AND  POOR  PAY — KNOCKING  DOWN — HOW  IT  IS  DONE — BEAT* 
ING  THE  BELL-PUNCH, 

There  are  thirty- two  lines  of  street  (or  surface)  rail- 
ways traversing  New  York.  Their  general  direction  is 
either  from  south  to  north,  or  across  the  Island  from 
east  to  west.  The  fare,  on  all  the  lines  but  two,  is  five 
cents.  On  the  Madison  avenue  line  it  is  six  cents,  and 
on  the  short  line,  from  Vesey  street  to  the  South  Ferry, 
three  cents.  Notwithstanding  the  enormous  patronage 
of  the  Elevated  roads,  the  surface  railways  are  still 
liberally  supported.  Many  people  have  a  nervous 
dread  of  the  aerial  structures  of  which  New  York  is 
«o  proud,  and  remain  faithful  to  the  horse  cars  ;  and 
Abr  those  who  v/ish  to  ride  short  distances  only,  the 
'3urface  roads  are  the  most  useful.  Then,  again,  dur- 
ing the  hours  when  the  fare  on  "  The  Elevated"  is  ten 
cents,  many  persons,  with  whom  time  is  not  an  object, 
use  the  horse  cars  to  save  the  extra  half-dime.  The 
peculiar  shape  of  the  city  renders  it  possible  for  all  the 
various  modes  of  travel — the  Elevated,  the  surface 
roads,  and  the  stages — to  be  operated  with  profit.  The 
majority  of  the  lines  run  from  south  to  north,  and 
centre  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Post  Otifice.  Before 
the  construction  of  the  Elevated  roads,  tlie  travel  on  the 


EXPENSES  OF  STREET  RAILROADS.  239 


Street  cars  was  enormous ;  the  companies  earned  fabu- 
lous sums ;  and  the  stockholders  received  dividends 
the  true  amount  of  which  could  rarely  be  ascertained. 
It  was  known  that  they  were  extraordinarily  large.  In 
1875,  year  before  the  successful  completion  of  the 
Elevated  roads,  the  street  cars  carried  over  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  million  passengers.  Over  1500  cars 
and  more  than  12,000  horses  were  employed  in  this 
work,  and  the  cost  of  operating  the  450  miles  of  track 
included  within  the  city  limits,  was  ^6,500,000.  At  an 
average  of  five  cents  per  passenger,  the  receipts  of  the 
roads  were  estimated  at  over  $8,000,000.  The  receipts 
of  the  Third  avenue  road  alone  were  $1,666,000,  of 
which  $300,000  was  clear  profit. 

There  are  many  expenses  attached  to  street  fait- 
roads  that  travelers  are  not  aware  of  In  addition  to 
the  wages  of  conductors  and  drivers,  there  is  the  out- 
lay for  offices,  clerks,  watchmen,  starters,  switchmen, 
changers  for  changing  the  horses  at  the  termini,  fore- 
njen  of  stables  and  stablemen,  feed  men,  washers, 
horse  shoers,  blacksmiths,  carpenters,  painters,  road  and 
track  men,  and  others.  To  pay  all  these,  more  than  * 
one-half  of  the  amount  set  down  for  operating  the  road 
is  expended.  The  feed  of  the  horses  requires  nearly 
a  quarter  of  the  total  amount,  while  large  sums  are  an- 
nually expended  on  fuel,  gas,  lights  for  cars,  oil  for 
wheels,  \yaste,  the  water  tax,  and  other  expenses. 
Damages  and  law  suits  for  accidents  amount  on  the 
average  to  over  one  per  cent,  on  the  gross  receipts, 
and  insurance  costs  three-fourths  of  one  per  cent, 
more.  The  expense  of  removing  snow  and  ice  is  con- 
siderable every  year,  aggregating  about  $100,000  foi 


240 


NEW  YORK. 


the  season,  if  favorable,  and  often  requiring  double 
that  amount  of  money.  The  clearing  of  the  snow  from 
about  half  a  mile  of  track  during  one  winter  cost  the 
Dry  Dock  Company  nearly  ^2000.  The  average  cost 
of  cars  is  about  $900,  and  of  horses  about  $150.  A 
car  rarely  lasts  more  than  three  years,  the  cost  of  re- 
pairing amounting  to  nearly  the  original  ouday  in  that 
time.  The  average  life  of  a  railroad  horse  is  about 
five  years,  and  very  often  several  horses  will  be  in  hos- 
pital at  a  time,  disease  or  accident  rendering  them 
unfit  for  duty.  Horses  have  often  been  lamed  by  sew- 
ing-machine needles  and  hoop-skirts,  which  were  left 
on  the  track.  In  times  of  epidemic  disease  among 
horses,  the  large  numbers  that  are  congregated  in  rail- 
road stables  cause  it  to  spread  rapidly,  and  to  prevent 
the  regular  running  of  the  cars.  These  are  only  a  few 
of  the  many  difficulties  which  the  managers  of  street 
railroads  must  meet.  The  open  or  excursion  cars 
have  to  be  in  the  storehouse  about  seven  months  of 
the  year,  as  they  can  only  be  used  during  the  warm 
months.  About  one-fifth  of  the  entire  stock  of  cars  is 
idle  during  the  whole  year.  The  cost  of  shoeing  horses 
is  also  an  important  matter  of  expense,  aggregating  for 
all  the  roads  in  the  city  over  ^500,000  per  year.  The 
number  of  nails  used  in  shoeing  amounts  annually  to 
hundreds  of  millions. 

Since  the  opening  of  the  Elevated  roads  the  receipts 
and  profits  of  the  leading  surface  lines  have  been 
gready  reduced,  but  sdll  all  condnue  to  be  operated  at 
a  profit,  and  some  of  the  horse  roads  which  run  along 
the  streets  occupied  by  their  aerial  rivals  are  begin- 
ning to  experience  a  return  of  their  old  prosperity. 


DIRTY  HORSE  CARS. 


241 


As  a  rule,  the  horse-cars  are  not  nice.  Some  of  the 
lines  run  clean  and  handsome  cars,  but  the  majority 
of  these  vehicles  are  dirty,  badly  ventilated,  and  full  of 
vermin.  In  the  winter  the  floor  is  covered  with  straw, 
as  a  protection  from  the  cold ;  but  this  soon  becomes 
foul,  and  constitutes  an  intolerable  nuisance. 

All  sorts  of  people  are  met  on  the  street  cars,  and  a 
crowded  car  is  a  favorite  place  for  pickpockets  to  ply 
their  trade.  These  generally  work  in  parties  of  two 
or  three,  to  render  detection  difficult  and  escape  easy. 


THE  THIRD  AVENUE  DEPOT. 


The  drivers  and  conductors  are  often  brutal  wretches, 
and  insult  and  maltreat  their  passengers  in  a  manner 
that  would  be  incredible,  were  not  the  facts  so  well 
attested.  Many,  on  the  other  hand,  are  honest  and 
courteous.  All  are  overworked  and  poorly  paid. 
They  are  on  duty  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  hours  out  of 
twenty-four,  and  have  no  holidays,  unless  they  choose 
to  forfeit  a  day*s  pay.  The  drivers  receive  from  $2.25 
to  $2.75,  and  the  conductors  from  $2  to  $2.50  per  diem. 

16 


242 


NEW  YORK. 


The  lot  of  a  horse  car  conductor  is  a  peculiar  one, 
and  his  life  stands  apart  from  that  of  most  men.  While 
there  is  considerable  monotony  about  it — and  to 
the  outsider  who  sees  only  the  bell-punch  and  the  bell- 
rope  it  seems  all  monotony — it  is,  after  all,  a  decidedly 
novel  career.  The  conductor  has  his  joys  and  sorrows  ; 
his  life  is  made  up  of  shadow  and  sunshine,  and  humor 
and  pathos  mark  the  round  of  his  daily  duties,  as  is  the 
case  with  all  of  us.  The  story  of  one  conductor  is  very 
much  the  story  of  all.  While  they  fare  better  on  some 
lines  and  worse  on  others,  take  them  right  through  and 
the  narrative  has  but  slight  variation.  Jump  on  any 
car  and  talk  with  any  of  them,  and  the  similarity 
of  their  circumstances  strikes  you  at  once.  The  story 
told  by  one  of  them  not  long  since  is  the  story  of  all, 
•and  his  epitome  of  his  accustomed  association  is  an 
epitome  of  them  all.  It  was  told  amid  the  roar  of  the 
street  and  the  jingle  of  the  bells;  it  was  interrupted  by 
passengers  and  the  collection  of  fares;  it  was  renewed 
while  Avaiting  at  the  depot,  but  taken  as  a  whole  it  was 
somewhat  as  follows: — 

"You  want  a  sort  of  running  account  of  my  daily 
work  and  what  is  required  of  us  when  we  first  go  on 
the  road?  Well,  we  have  to  furnish  our  suits. 
If  it  is  summer  time  the  suit  costs  us  from  ^14  to  ^16, 
while  the  winter  apparel  is  worth  several  dollars  more. 
Then  we  have  to  procure  an  overcoat,  and  some  of  us 
are  required  to  make  a  deposit  on  the  bell-punch.  Of 
course  that  is  repaid  us  whenever  we  leave.  Then  we 
must  have  a  watch,  and  one  that  will  keep  good  time. 
We  have  to  regulate  our  watches  by  the  large  clock  in 
the  d^ot,  and  any  variation  makes  it  all  the  more  diffi- 


A  conductor's  lot  is  not  a  happy  one.  243 

cult  for  us  to  run  on  time.  Our  clothes  rnust  be  kept 
clean,  and  we  are  expected  always  to  present  a  neat 
appearance  and  get  down  to  the  depot  in  the  morning 
about  five  minutes  before  our  car  starts.  The  mats, 
which  I  took  up  the  night  before  and  which  the  driver 
has  shaken,  I  put  in  their  places.  And  just  here  let  me 
say  that  we  are  compelled  to  keep  our  car  clean  and 
have  the  windows  washed  whenever  they  need  it.  I 
sweep  out  the  car  the  last  thing  at  night  and  before 
running  in  with  the  other  cars,  in  order  to  avoid  scatter- 
ing dust  over  them.  I  am  supposed  to  have  full  con- 
trol over  the  car,  and  the  driver  is,  to  a  certain  extent, 
under  me.  If  there  is  any  trouble  between  us  we  can 
make  it  unpleasant  for  each  other,  but  I  have  the  privi- 
lege to  report  any  misconduct  or  disobedience,  and  the 
conductor  is  generally  sustained. 

"Before  starting  out  I  take  a  certain  amount  in 
change,  which  is  charged  against  me  by  the  cashier. 
Some  men  turn  their  cash  in  at  the  end  of  each  trip, 
but  most  of  us  wait  until  night,  and  hand  the  account 
for  the  entire  day  in  at  once.  At  the  close  of  every 
trip  I  make  out  my  report,  specifying  on  this  card  the 
amount.  As  a  general  thing,  my  account  comes  out 
square,  but  once  in  a  while  I  find  myself  out  a  few  cents. 
It  is  rare  that  I  find  a  surplus  in  my  favor.  Occasion- 
ally I  will  give  too  little  change,  or  mistake  one  of  those 
twenty-cent  pieces  for  a  quarter,  thus  cheating  the 
passenger,  but  usually  the  other  way.  For  a  long  time 
we  were  sold  on  those  twenty-cent  coins,  and  learned  to 
be  cautious.  Then  once  in  awhile,  when  the  car 
is  full  and  we  are  making  change  rapidly,  a  three-cent 
piece  or  one  of  those  small  half-dimes  will  get  in  between 


244 


NEW  YORK. 


Other  change  which  we  hand  to  a  passenger.  Of  course 
we  are  'docked'  in  those  cases.  The  same  way  with 
counterfeit  money — we  have  to  run  the  risk  and  bear 
the  loss.  I  got  stuck  on  a  five  dollar  note  not  long 
ago.  The  receiver  handed  it  back  to  me  the  next  day 
and  charged  me  with  it.  I  had  to  get  rid  of  it  as  best 
I  could.  They  are  pretty  lenient  with  us,  however, 
and  we  do  not  often  suffer. 

There  is  a  difference  as  to  the  time  given  for  meals 
and  stops  by  the  lines.  I  have  about  two  minutes  at 
the  lower  end  of  the  trip  and  from  seven  to  fourteen 
at  the  upper.  In  the  evening  we  get  from  fifteen  to 
twenty.  About  fifteen  minutes  is  allowed  us  for  meals — 
that  is,  we  have  that  time  between  trips  at  noon  and 
night,  but  if  we  are  behind  time  that  is  taken  off  and 
we  have  so  much  less  to  eat  in.  We  generally  manage 
to  have  full  time,  however,  for  eating.  Our  meals  are 
brought  us  by  our  children  or  wives,  and  are  placed  in 
the  conductors'  room  at  the  depot.  Some  of  the  men 
live  close  enough  to  run  home  and  get  a  bite.  We 
get  very  little  time  to  see  our  families,  I  tell  you,  except 
when  we  get  our  day  off  Some  of  the  roads  let  you 
have  whatever  day  you  ask  for,  and  supply  your  place 
with  one  of  the  extras.  An  "extra"  is  a  man  who  is 
substituted,  and  generally  has  been  taken  off  the  regular 
force  for  disobeying  orders.  Slight  disobedience,  such 
as  neglect  to  clean  your  car,  often  places  you  on  the 
extra  list,  while  gross  carelessness  will  discharge  you. 
You  get  no  pay  on  your  holidays,  while  you  are  paid 
from  $2.00  to  $2.50  a  day  while  on  duty.  The  "trip- 
pers,"  as  those  men  are  called  who  only  run  three- 
quarters  of  a  day,  get  $1.50.    I  know  the  pay  is  not  so 


LIFE  OF  A  CAR  CONDUCTOR. 


245 


poor,  compared  with  many  other  occupations,  but  then 
we  have  so  little  time  to  ourselves,  or  for  sleep.  I  only- 
get  five  hours  a  day  sleep,  and  I  am  terribly  tired  when 
the  work  is  over.  It  is  very  hard  to  awaken  me  in  the 
morning,  so  soundly  do  I  sleep.  All  the  chance  we  get 
to  sit  down  is  between  trips  or  on  this  board  seat, 
which  we  pay  for  ourselves,  and  that  is  not  over  com- 
fortable, as  you  can  see. 

"Our  life  is  pretty  monotonous,  and  yet  all  sorts  of 
scenes  occur  to  give  it  variety.  If  it  was  not  for  that, 
1  could  not  stand  it,  and  so  most  of  the  men  say.  We 
have  all  kinds  of  people,  and  articles  of  every  descrip- 
tion travel  with  us.  The  washerwoman  gets  on  with 
her  basket  of  clothes;  the  tailor  brings  in  a  bundle; 
the  emigrant  rides  with  a  big  bag  or  small  trunk ;  the 
lady  has  a  dozen  small  packages,  and  the  caterer  car- 
ries dainties  for  a  party.  Now  and  then  a  funny  thing 
happens  that  sets  the  car  in  a  roar  of  laughter.  A 
man  got  in  the  morning  after  the  election  in  Indiana 
and  Ohio  and  purchased  a  paper.  When  he  read  the 
result,  he  rolled  the  paper  up  and  fired  it  the  length  of 
the  car,  narrowly  missing  a  dozen  heads  and  striking  a 
small  boy  with  a  pail  of  milk  here  on  the  platform.  A 
German  got  on  board  the  other  day,  who  could  not 
speak  a  word  of  English.  Fortunately,  I  understand 
German  a  little,  and  was  able  to  make  out  that  he 
wanted  to  get  out  at  Twenty-second  street.  When  we 
reached  there  I  told  him,  putting  my  hand  up  to  pull 
the  bell,  as  he  had  several  immense  bundles.  He  shook 
his  head  and  drew  my  hand  back,  so  we  went  on.  I 
tried  to  find  out  what  he  meant,  but  he  laughed  and 
said  nothing.    Suddenly,  when  we  were  moving  quite 


246 


NEW  YORK. 


fast,  he  gathered  up  his  luggage,  shook  hands  with  me, 
and  before  I  could  comprehend  his  movements,  jumped 
off.  He  turned  over  and  over,  his  bundles  flew  in 
every  direction  and  his  hat  rolled  into  the  gutter.  At 
first  I  thought  he  was  hurt,  but  he  sat  up  in  the  street, 
kissed  his  hand  to  me,  and  laughed  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  a  block  off. 

"  We  conductors  have  our  annoyances  also.  It  is 
hard  to  tell  who  worry  us  the  most,  but  I  guess  the 
women  do.  Some  of  them  are  so  nervous  and  fidgety, 
never  knowing  where  they  want  to  go,  and  asking 
every  minute  if  we  have  reached  there.  They  get  out 
on  the  platform  before  the  car  stops,  and  often  have  to 
be  held  back  from  jumping  off  They  start  out  to  shop 
sometimes,  and  forget  their  purses.  After  riding  a 
block  or  two  they  suddenly  discover  the  lack  of  money, 
and  either  declare  there  are  pickpockets  in  the  car  or 
else  are  in  tribulation  lest  we  will  put  them  oft""  right 
away.  On  rainy  days  we  have  to  raise  their  umbrellas; 
and  wait  for  them  to  get  their  dresses  adjusted.  Then 
those  of  them  who  go  marketing  bring  huge  baskets, 
which  we  have  to  lift  on  and  off  Still,  we  ought  to  be 
courteous,  and  I  think  most  of  us  are,  though  the  ladies 
do  not  often  take  the  pains  to  thank  us  for  any  extra 
attention.  The  worst  lot  we  have  to  deal  with  are  the 
young  clerks  and  store  boys,  who  ride  regularly  back 
and  forth  from  business.  They  put  on  any  quantity 
of  airs  and  try  to  occupy  the  entire  car.  One  of  them 
always  sits  out  here  on  my  seat,  even  though  there  is 
plenty  of  room  inside.  They  smoke  when  they 
shouldn't,  and  then  want  to  know  when  the  rule  was 
made  prohibiting  it.    They  get  in  the  way,  jostle  the 


» 


THE  WOES  OF  A  CONDUCTOR. 


247 


other  passengers,  declare  we  do  not  give  them  the 
right  change,  and  make  themselves  disagreeable  gen- 
erally. The  newsboys  are  forbidden  on  many  of  the 
cars  after  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  yet  persist  in 
jumping  on  after  that  time.  The  small  boy  steals  a 
ride  while  we  are  forward  in  the  car,  and  rainy  days 
we  get  thoroughly  drenched,  particularly  if  the  storm 
heats  down  the  street.  Only  now  and  then  are  we 
able  to  stand  inside  and  avoid  the  wet.  Then  we  have 
the  chronic  grumblers — men  and  women — who  want 
the  windows  up  and  down  at  the  same  time.  We  put 
them  up,  and  some  lady  begins  to  shiver  and  some  man 
turns  up  his  coaf-collar  and  looks  daggers  at  us ;  we 
put  them  down,  and  at  once  there  are  complaints  that 
the  air  is  stifling.  Then  there  are  those  who  annoy  us 
by  charging  that  they  left  articles  in  the  cars,  very 
valuable  in  most  cases,  which  we  have  taken,  but  which, 
strange  to  say,  are  generally  found  at  home  or  in  some 
store.  I  might  mention  the  drunken  characters  and 
the  noisy  ones  who  ride  with  us,  but  the  list  I  have 
named  embraces  the  majority  of  troublesome  persons. 

"  We  cannot  complain  generally  of  bad  treatment  by 
the  companies.  They  relieve  us  when  we  are  sick,  al- 
low us  a  day  to  ourselves,  and  pay  what  they  promise. 
Many  of  us  are  sorry  we  ever  took  the  position,  for  an 
entirely  different  reason,  and  that  is,  that  the  place  is 
regarded  as  a  degrading  one  by  so  many,  and  we  are 
excluded  socially  because  of  our  occupation.  Some 
of  us  are  of  good  families,  but  the  hard  times  compelled 
us  to  do  anything  that  would  secure  us  a  competence 
and  was  not  actually  disreputable.  Yet  we  are  mostly 
looked  down  upon." 


248 


NEW  YORK. 


The  practice  of  "knocking  down"  Is  carried  on  very 
extensively  on  the  horse  car  lines,  and  the  companies 
suffer  heavily  by  it.  They  take  every  precaution  to 
secure  good  men,  and  have  a  thorough  system  of 
espionage  at  work  to  detect  and  stop  the  dishonest 
practice.  Their  spies  are  constantly  traveling  over  the 
road  and  note  the  number  of  passengers  carried  on 
the  cars  they  are  appointed  to  watch,  and  when  the 
conductor's  report  is  handed  in,  they  examine  it,  and 
report  any  inaccuracies.  The  conductor,  it  is  said, 
often  divides  the  stolen  money  with  the  spy,  or  "spot- 
ter," as  he  is  called,  and  thus  secures  his  silence.  He 
has  also  to  buy  the  driver's  co-operation,  and  this  costs 
him  from  to  $2  a  day,  and  the  driver  has  to  pay  the 
stablemen  for  a  similar  purpose.  Even  the  bell  punch 
fails  to  put  a  stop  to  the  nefarious  practice.  Some 
time  ago,  coming  down  town  on  a  car  of  one  of  the 
principal  lines,  a  gentleman  asked  the  driver  after  a 
conductor  who  formerly  had  charge  of  the  car,  and  was 
a  very  popular  man  with  the  passengers  on  the  road. 

"Where  is  he  now?"  asked  the  gentleman. 

"Discharged." 

"What  for?" 

"Stealing,'*  answered  the  driver,  with  complacency. 
"They  don't  keep  a  conductor  a  minute  after  they 
catch  him  at  it." 

"  But  I  thought  they  had  put  a  stop  to  that  sort  of 
thing." 

"Bah!  they  can't  stop  it,  and  on  a  quiet  road  like 
this,  it's  worse  than  on  the  big  roads.  Half  the  con- 
ductors on  this  line  make  $3  or  $4  a  day  above  their 
wages.    I  know  it,  because  I  watch  'em.    When  a 


BEATING  THE  BELL  PUNCH. 


249 


conductor  gives  a  driver  $i  a  day,  you  can  bet  he  has 
made  three  times  as  much.  The  bell  punches,  eh? 
They're  no  good.  I'll  tell  you  how  it's  done,  and  you 
can  see  it  yourself  if  you  watch.  Suppose  a  man  got 
off  the  rear  platform  just  as  you  got  on  here.  The 
conductor  takes  your  fare  and  don't  mark  it  on  the 
punch.  If  there  is  a  "counter"  on  the  car  at  the  time, 
the  conductor  knows  it  and  he  marks  the  fare.  He 
gets  to  know  most  of  *em.  But  if  he  took  your  fare,  as 
I  said,  and  a  counter  got  on  afterward,  the  counter 
would  not  find  out  anything.  There  would  be  as 
many  passengers  in  the  car  as  the  punch  indicated, 
and  that's  the  only  thing  the  conductors  have  to  look 
out  for.  Oh!  it's  easy  enough  when  you  know  how 
to  do  it.    Git  up  there!" 


250 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SIXTH  AVENUE. 

XAPID  ADVANCE   OF  SIXTH  AVENUE  IN  PROSPERITY— DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  STRBKT— THE  LOWE* 

PORTION — THE    TENEMENT    HOUSES  FRENCH    FLATS  THE    ELEVATED    RAILROAD    AND  ITS 

STATIONS — A  BUSY  SCENE — SIXTH-AVENUE  STORES — "  MACEy'S  " — THE  JEFFERSON  MARKET 
POLICE  COURT — booth's  THEATRE — THE  MASONIC  TEMPLE — "  THE  TABERNACLE" — SIXTH 
AVENUE  BY  NIGHT — A  CHANGE  OF  SCENE— THE  STREET-WALKERS — BRAZEN  VICE — THE 
FRENCH  WOMEN — SNARING  A  VICTIM — SHAMEFUL  SCENES  ON  THE  AVENUE — THE  STREET  A 
TERROR  TO  DECENT  PEOPLE — THE  ROUGHS — SIXTH-AVENUE  OYSTER  HOUSES  AND  BEER  SA- 
LOONS— SCENE  IN  A  FLASH  SALOON — A  YOUTHFUL  CRIMINAL — THE  DETECTIVe's  PRIZE — 
SIXTH  AVENUE  AFTER  MIDNIGHT — A  DRUNKEN  SINGER — "  IN  THE  SWEET  BYE-AND-BYB  " — 
NO  EFFORT    MADE  TO  CHECK  THE  EVIL. 

Of  late  years  Sixth  avenue  has  come  prominently 
before  the  public  as  one  of  the  most  noted  streets  of 
the  great  city.  It  commences  at  the  northern  end  of 
Carmine  street,  and  runs  northward  to  59th  street.  At 
this  point  it  is  broken  by  the  Central  Park,  but  com- 
mences again  at  iioth  street,  the  northern  boundary 
of  the  Park,  and  pursues  its  northward  course  to  the 
Harlem  River.  It  is  traversed  from  its  southern  ex- 
tremity to  the  Park  by  the  Metropolitan  Elevated  Rail- 
road, and  below  the  arcade  formed  by  this  structure 
run  the  horse-cars  of  the  Sixth-Avenue  Railroad  Com- 
pany, the  northern  terminus  of  which  is  59th  street. 
The  avenue  is  solidly  built  up  below  the  Park,  and 
ranks  next  to  Broadway  as  a  business  street,  being 
devoted  to  the  retail  trade.  In  the  lower  part  are  a 
number  of  tenement-houses,  but  above  34th  street  the 
upper  floors  of  the  buildings  are  laid  off"  in  "  French 
flats,"  some  of  which  are  elegant  and  stylish.  For 
miles  on  both  sides  of  the  street  are  handsome  retail 
stores,  some  of  which  are  elegant  and  extensive  enough 


FEATURES  OF  SIXTH  AVENUE. 


251 


to  merit  a  place  on  Broadway.  The  sidewalks  are  al- 
ways filled  with  throngs  of  purchasers,  drawn  here  by 
»  the  fine  display  of  goods  and  the  prevailing  belief  that 
Sixth  avenue  prices  are  lower  than  those  of  Broadway. 
All  through  the  day  the  street  is  bright  and  lively,  and 
the  rapid  passage  of  the  trains  on  the  Elevated  rail- 
road overhead  adds  greatly  to  the  interest  of  the 
scene.  At  14th  street  is  one  of  the  handsomest  sta- 
tions of  the  Elevated  road,  and  on  the  corners  of  this 
street  and  the  avenue  are  "  Macey  s"  and  several  other 
popular  stores.  "Macey's"  is  a  world  in  itself,  the 
most  perfect  Noah's  ark  in  the  land.  You  can  find  in 
it  everything,  from  the  simplest  toys  for  children  to 
dress  goods  of  the  most  costly  kind.  The  crowd  at 
this  part  of  the  avenue  is  always  greatest,  and  is  gen- 
erally  composed  of  richly  and  fashionably-attired  ladies  • 
and  children;  and  both  streets  are  frequently  almost 
blocked  by  the  long  lines  of  elegant  carriages  standing 
in  them  and  awaiting  their  owners. 

Several  handsome  buildings  front  on  Sixth  avenue. 
The  first  of  these  is  the  Jefferson  Market  Police  Court, 
a  new  and  unique  edifice,  constructed  of  red  brick 
with  sandstone  trimmings,  in  the  Italian  Gothic  style. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  noted  edifices  in  New  York,  and 
stands  on  the  site  of  one  of  the  most  disgraceful  rook  • 
eries  that  ever  shamed  the  metropolis.  On  the  south- 
east corner  of  23d  street  is  a  noble  edifice,  built  of 
Concord  granite,  in  the  rennaissance  style.  This  is 
the  superb  theatre,  built  twelve  years  ago  by  Edwin 
Booth,  as  a  fitting  house  for  the  drama  in  New  York. 
It  is  still  known  as  Booth's  Theatre.  Immediately  op- 
posite, on  the  northeast  corner  of  23d  street,  is  the  Ma- 


252 


NEW  YORK. 


sonic  Temple,  also  built  of  granite,  and  one  of  the  most 
elegant  and  tasteful  buildings  in  the  city.  At  the 
northeast  corner  of  34th  street  is  the  Tabernacle  Bap- 
tist Church,  a  handsome  edifice  of  brownstone.  Be- 
tween 40th  and  42d  streets,  on  the  east  side  of*  the 
avenue,  is  Reservoir  Park,  a  charming  enclosure  occu- 
pying the  site  of  the  famous  Crystal  Palace,  which  was 
destroyed  by  fire  nearly  thirty  years  ago. 


MASONIC  TEMPLE,  SIXTH  AVENUE  AND  23D  STREET. 


When  the  darkness  settles  down  over  the  city,  and 
the  lamps  flare  out  along  the  street,  and  the  broad  ray? 
of  light  stream  brightly  into  the  open  air  from  the 
stores,  restaurants,  and  saloons,  Sixth  avenue  under- 
goes a  transformation.  All  day  it  has  been  crowded 
with  the  best  of  New  York's  people,  intent  upon  hon- 
est business.  Now  the  crowd  is  almost  as  great,  but 
it  is  of  a  different  character.  The  larger,  and  better 
class  stores  are  closed  ;  only  the  smaller  retail  shops. 


SIXTH  AVENUE  STREET  WALKERS. 


253 


the  drug  stores,  the  saloons,  restaurants,  and  tobacco- 
nists remain  open,  but  these  are  numerous  enough  to 
give  a  brilHant  coloring  to  the  street  with  their  bright 
lights  and  elaborately-decorated  windows.  The  many- 
colored  lights  of  the  stations  of  the  Elevated  Railroad 
lend  another  attractive  feature  to  the  scene,  and  the 
whirl  and  roar  of  the  brilliantly-illuminated  trains,  as 
they  whiz  by  overhead,  give  to  the  street  an  air  of  life 
and  bustle  in  keeping  with  the  movements  of  the  crowd 
on  the  sidewalk  below. 

Among  the  promenaders  are  scores  of  young  women, 
flashily  dressed,  with  bold,  brazen  faces,  plentifully  cov- 
ered with  rouge  and  enamel,  which  show  plainly  under 
the  bright  glare  of  the  gas-lamps.  They  are  simply 
street-walkers,  of  the  worst  class,  and  are  boldly  plying 
their  trade  in  the  very  faces  of  the  police.  They  do 
not  conduct  themselves  here  with  the  outward  pro- 
priety they  are  forced  to  assume  on  Broadway,  but  are 
loud-voiced  and  foul-tongued.  They  do  not  hesitate  ta 
accost  men,  and  too  often  succeed  in  inducing  them  to 
accompany  them  to  one  of  the  dance-houses,  or  "  gar- 
dens," which  abound  in  the  side  streets,  and  in  whose 
pay  these  women  are.  Once  there,  the  wretched  vic- 
tim is  asked  to  treat,  and  begins  a  course  of  hard 
drinking  with  the  girl,  who,  on  her  part,  manages  to 
drink  but  little,  and  this  is  kept  up  until  he  is  in  fit 
condition  for  her  to  lead  him  further  on  into  the  depths 
of  sin,  and  perhaps  to  robber}^  and  death.  It  is  but  a 
step  from  the  dance-hall  to  one  of  the  vile  dens,  where 
certain  robbery,  and  perhaps  violence,  awaits  the  vic- 
tim ;  and  the  girl  is  an  old  hand  at  her  trade. 

Many  of  these  women  are  French,  and  can  scarcely 


254 


NEW  YORK. 


Speak  English  at  all ;  yet,  strange  to  say,  fchey  are 
among  the  most  successful  in  the  practice  of  their  aban- 
doned calling.  They  know  enough,  however,  to  say, 
"  You  come  wiz  me,  my  love  "  You  treat  me "  I 
take  a  leetle  beer  ;"  "  Fife  dollar,"  and  similar  phrases. 
Some  of  the  women  have  reputable  employments 
during  the  day,  but  these  pay  them  beggarly  wages, 
and  they  supply  their  wants  by  resorting  to  their  hor- 
rid trade  by  night.  Of  late  years  they  have  become  so 
numerous  on  the  avenue  that  decent  people,  especially 
iemales,  cannot  venture  on  the  street  unless  accom- 
j)anied  by  a  male  protector.  Even  then  they  are  in 
r.onstant  hearing  of  vile  oaths  and  foul  expressions 
from  the  lips  of  members  of  their  own  sex.  Should  a 
woman,  unaccompanied  by  a  man,  attempt  to  pass 
along  the  avenue  between  14th  and  34th  streets,  after 
night,  she  is  almost  sure  to  be  insulted  by  some  of  the 
ruffians  who  parade  the  street,  hang  around  the  bar- 
rooms, or  stand  on  the  corners,  and  who  are  hand  and 
glove  with  the  street-walkers.  You  see  them  stand  in 
groups  around  a  party  of  abandoned  women  on  the 
.sidewalk,  exchanging  ribald  jests  with  them,  and  should 
you  pause  to  listen,  you  would  hear  words  spoken 
openly  and  loudly  that  would  make  your  ears  tingle. 

All  along  the  avenue  are  saloons  of  more  than  doubt- 
ful character,  and  oyster-houses  in  which  no  decent 
person  ever  sets  foot.  These  are  favorite  resorts  with 
the  street-walkers  and  their  companions,  and  rallying 
places  for  the  ruffians  that  lend  the  girls  their  protec- 
tion and  live  upon  the  wretched  earnings  of  the 
women.  In  these  resorts,  says  a  writer  in  the  Police 
Gazette.,    vou  see  the  rough,  intoxicated  elements  of 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  RUIN. 


255 


Sixth  avenue.  Girls  lounge  about  in  the  midst  of  the 
smoke  ;  do  not  hesitate  to  sit  on  the  laps  of  gentlemen, 
and  are  always  ready  for  one  of  the  foaming  glasses 
of  beer  which  are  pyramidally  carried  about  by  the 
ubiquitous  waiters.  There  are  many  young  men  being 
ruined  here.  While  we  look  on,  an  episode  occurs 
that  illuminates  the  whole  subject  as  a  flash  of  lightning 
does  a  gloomy  wood. 

"  At  one  of  the  tables  has  been  sitting,  with  two  girls 
of  the  town,  a  handsome  boy  of  about  eighteen  years. 
The  rose  of  health  is  still  on  his  cheek,  and,  although 
the  gin  and  water  he  has  been  drinking  have  given  his 
eyes  a  false  lustre,  you  can  easily  see  that  he  hasn't 
gone  far  on  the  road.  His  vital  organs  are  healthy. 
How  about  his  moral  tone  ? 

"  Directly  back  of  him  sits  a  silent  and  apparently 
abstracted  individual,  who  has  gone  to  such  depths  in 
a  brown  study  that  the  glass  of  beer  before  him  is  as 
yet  untasted,  although  it  has  been  there  ten  minutes. 

"  The  youth  gives  the  waiter  a  twenty-dollar  bill,  and 
his  companions  exchange  glances.  Just  as  the  proprie- 
tor thrusts  it  into  the  drawer,  the  detective — for  the 
abstracted  man  is  none  other — reaches  over  the  bar, 
utters  a  few  words,  and  takes  the  note  and  examines 
it.  His  suspicions  are  correct.  It  is  a  marked  bill, 
marked  that  day  in  the  down-town  office  where  the 
unfortunate  boy  is  employed.  It  is  quite  a  tableau  when 
the  arrest  is  made.  He  turns  pale  as  a  ghost,  and  then 
goes  out  with  an  attempt  at  bravery  and  carelessness 
that  is  pitiable  to  behold.  As  for  the  women,  in  ten 
minutes  they  are  drinking  more  beer,  at  the  expense 
of  some  one  else. 


256 


NEW  YORK. 


"  At  about  two  A.  M.  the  avenue  is  not  so  crowded 
as  at  midnight,  but  its  life  is  more  intense.  The  old 
*Argyle  Rooms,'  'Cremorne,'  and  'Buckingham'  have 
vomited  forth  their  crowds  of  dancers.  They  flood  the 
oyster  saloons,  and  fill  the  beer  shops  with  the  rusde 
of  silken  skirts. 

"  In  one  beer  saloon  a  negro  band  is  in  full  blast. 
When  they  stop  to  pass  around  the  hat,  a  tipsy  young 
woman,  bantered  to  it  by  her  companions,  goes  to  the 
piano  and  sings,  '  In  the  Sweet  Bye-and-Bye.'  It  is  a 
strange,  "fead  scene.  She  is  handsome,  but  undeniably 
drunk.  Her  hair  is  disheveled.  As  she  sings,  being 
at  the  maudlin  state  of  drinking,  the  song  overmasters 
her  with  its  pathos,  and  she  breaks  off  abruptly  and 
begins  to  cry. 

"At  this  the  'lovers,'  petty  gamblers,  and  'strikers* 
gradually  break  into  a  coarse  laugh.  The  poor  girl 
falls,  sobbing,  with  her  head  on  the  table,  robbed  even 
of  the  sympathy  of  her  drunken  companions,  while  the 
'nigger'  band  squares  matters  with  the  audience  by 
giving  '  I've  Just  Been  Down  to  the  Club,  Dear.' " 

These  wretched  scenes  last  until  "  the  wee  sma* 
hours"  of  the  morning.  Then  there  is  a  brief  period 
of  silence  and  darkness  in  the  avenue,  and  with  the 
dawning  day  all  signs  of  sin  and  vice  have  disap- 
peared. Sixth  avenue  puts  on  its  respectable  dress, 
and  until  sunset  devotes  itself  to  legitimate  and  reput- 
able business.  The  avenue  is  strongly  policed,  both 
day  and  night,  yet  the  "cops"  have  neither  eyes  for 
the  shameful  sights  nor  ears  for  the  vile  sounds  we 
have  described.  The  city  authorities  are  perfectly 
aware  of  the  character  of  the  street,  and  the  business 


APATHY  OF  THE  AUTHORITIES. 


257 


of  Its  promenaders  by  night,  but  they  make  no  effort 
to  correct  the  evil.  The  ruffians  who  istand  behind  the 
street-walkers  as  "  backers,"  and  who  live  upon  their 
wretched  gains,  have  political  influence,  and  can  com- 
mand votes.  Therefore  the  municipal  authorities  stand 
aloof  They  are  afraid  to  touch  the  fearful  sore. 
Their  interference  might  lose  votes  for  their  party,  and 
so  they  permit  one  of  the  best  and  most  attractive 
thoroughfares  of  the  Metropolis  to  remain  the  stamp- 
ing ground"  of  vice  and  crime. 


17 


258 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

COACHING  DAY. 

IMtBMORIESOF  BYGONE  DAYS— STAGE  COACHING  IN  FORMER  YEARS — REVIVAL  OF  COACHING  IN  NBW 
YORK — COLONEL  KANE's  ENTERPRISE— THE  "  TALLY  HO  " — A  HANDSOME  SUCCESS — SOCIETY 
ADOPTS  COACHING  AS  THE*'  CORRECT  THING  " — THE  COACHING  CLUB  ORGANIZED — COACHING 
DAY — THE  ANNUAL  PARADE — A  BRILLIANT  SIGHT. 

Many  of  the  readers  of  these  pages  will  remember 
the  old  fashioned  stage  coach,  which,  before  the  advent 
of  the  railways,  was  the  sole  means  of  travel  between 
the  various  parts  of  the  country.    It  had  its  disadvan- 
tages, but  its  pleasures  were  also  numerous  and  decided. 
The  time  was  slow,  the  company  small,  and  the  road 
often  rough  and  tedious,  but  the  passengers  were  gen- 
erally sociable,  and  on  long  journeys  pleasant  acquaint- 
ances were  made  and  lasting  friendships  often  formed. 
The  very  slowness  of  the  ponderous  vehicle  gave  one 
an  opportunity  of  enjoying  to  the  utmost  the  beautiful 
scenery  through  which  the  route  lay.    And  the  inns  at 
which  the  coach  stopped  for  meals,  what  delightful, 
rambling  old  structures  they  were,  and  what  tempting 
repasts  they  spread  for  the  hungry  passengers,  with 
the  hearty  old  landlord  hovering  about  the  table  to  see 
that  his  guests  were  well  supplied  and  comfortable. 
Then  the  traveler  was  not  worried  out  of  his  life  by  the 
announcement  "twenty  minutes  for  refreshments,"  and 
did  not  have  to  choke  down  a  few  mouthfuls  of  badly 
cooked  eatables,  with  a  certainty  of  the  horrors  of  dys- 
pepsia looming  up  before  him  ;  but  instead  he  had 
abundant  time  to  do  justice  to  a  repast  fit  for  a  prince, 


REVIVAL  OF  COACHING. 


259 


nicely  and  cleanly  served,  and  could  resume  his  place 
in  the  coach  widi  a  tranquil  mind  and  a  full  stomach, 
and  be  prepared  to  enjoy  at  his  ease  the  ride  through 
the  clear,  fresh  air  and  the  smiling  country.  Well, 
they  have  all  passed  away,  the  coaches,  the  inns,  the 
landlords,  and  the  square  meals.  The  iron  horse  and 
the  railway  restaurant  have  taken  their  places.  Yet 
those  who  have  enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  the  past  look 
back  at  them  regretfully,  and  wonder,  with  a  sigh,  if  we 
are  any  more  comfortable,  after  all,  than  we  were  in 
those  slow,  old  fashioned  days. 

Of  late  years  New  York  fashionable  society  has 
undertaken  to  revive  in  some  measure  the  memories 
of  the  past,  and  the  result  of  the  effort  is  seen  in  the 
"  Coaching  Club,"  whose  annual  parade  is  one  of  the 
sights  of  the  great  city,  and  an  eagerly  anticipated  and 
much  enjoyed  feature  of  fashionable  life. 

The.  Coachinof  Club  owes  its  existence  to  Colonel 
Delancey  Kane,  a  New*  York  gentleman  of  wealth.'  It 
has  long  been  the  "style"  in  London  for  the  young 
gentlemen  of  the  aristocracy  to  kill  a  part  of  the  time 
that  hangs  so  heavily  on  their  hands,  by  becoming 
amateur  Jehus,  and  driving  four-in-hand  coaches  from 
designated  points  in  the  city  to  fixed  destinations  in  the 
countr)^  They  carry  passengers  and  parcels  over  the 
route  at  the  regular  coach  fares,  and  as  a  rule  manage 
to  reap  a  neat  little  sum,  as  well  as  to  extract  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure  from  the  performance. 

In  1875  Colonel  Delancey  Kane,  being  in  the  British 
Metropolis,  adopted  the  practice  of  his  ''high-toned" 
associates,  and  during  the  summer  of  that  year  drove  a 
coach  regularly  from  London   to  Windsor  Forest. 


260 


NEW  YORK. 


Returning  home,  he  resolved  to  introduce  the  practice 
into  New  York,  and  thus  become  a  benefactor  of  so- 
ciety by  giving  it  a  new  sensation.  Accordingly,  in 
the  summer  of  1876,  the  "Tally-Ho,"  the  first  four-in- 
hand  coach,  made  its  appearance  in  Fifth  avenue,  with 
Colonel  Kane,  its  owner,  as  driver.  It  was  imported 
Irom  London,  and  was  elegant  and  luxurious.  Promptly 
at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  "Tally-Ho'* 
started  from  the  Hotel  Brunswick,  at  Fifth  avenue  and 
Madison  Square,  and  took  the  route  up  the  avenue  to 
59th  street,  through  the  Central  Park,  thence  to  Mc- 
Comb's  Dam  Bridge,  over  the  Harlem  River  to  the 
mainland,  and  from  that  point  to  Pelham  Bridge,  in 
Westchester  Count>^  which  was  reached  promptly  at 
one  o'clock.  At  half  past  three  the  return  trip  began, 
over  the  same  route,  and  at  five  the  coach  drew  up  be- 
fore the  Hotel  Brunswick.  The  fare  for  the  round 
trip  was  three  dollars,  with  an  extra  charge  of  fifty 
cents  each  way  for  a  seat  on  the  box.  Passengers' 
luggage,  up  to  eighty-five  pounds,  was  carried  free. 
Parcels  were  taken  at  moderate  rates,  and  were  deliv- 
ered with  care  and  punctuality.  The  fares  for  inter- 
mediate distances  were  at  proportionate  rates,  and  the 
coach  took  up  and  set  down  passengers  and  parcels 
at  any  point  except  between  Madison  Square  and  the 
Central  Park.  The  route  lay  through  a  delightful 
country,  abounding  in  picturesque  scenery,  and  the 
drive  was  highly  enjoyable. 

The  **Tally-Ho"  was  a  success  from  the  start 
Fashionable  society  greeted  it  heartily  as  a  new^  diver- 
sion, and  patronized  it  liberally.  Every  day  it  was 
filled  with  parties  of  gayly-dressed  ladies  and  gentle- 


THE  COACHING  CLUB. 


261 


men,  representing  the  greatest  wealth  and  the  highest 
society  of  the  city.  Drawn  by  four  magnificent  brown 
steeds,  the  coach  rattled  along  the  avenue,  through  the 
Park,  and  over  the  pleasant  country  roads,  and  its  oc- 
cupants, in  the  highest  spirits,  found  the  drive  all  too 
short  for  their  pleasure.  It  became  the  correct  thing 
to  ride  on  the  "  Tally-Ho,"  and  its  proprietor  was  liter- 
ally besieged  by  applications  for  places.  Seats  were 
engaged  weeks  in  advance,  and  the  season  proved  not 
only  a  brilliant  one  from  a  fashionable  standpoint,  but 
a  very  handsome  financial  success  for  its  projector. 

The  success  of  Colonel  Kane  encouraged  other  gen- 
tlemen of  wealth  and  fashion  to  attempt  the  same 
thing,  and  soon  a  number  of  four-in-hand  coaches  were 
to  be  seen  bowling  through  the  streets,  the  ribbons  in 
the  hands  of  "  swells  "  who  had  never  before  known 
harder  labor  than  treading  the  mazes  of  the  German, 
or  handling  a  billiard-cue.  Four-in-hand  driving  be- 
came quite  the  rage,  and  in  1876  the  owners  of  the 
coaches  organized  the  "Coaching Club,"  which  at  pres- 
ent has  a  membership  of  twenty-six,  representing 
twenty-one  coaches. 

The  club  is  made  up  principally  of  young  men  of 
wealth  and  fashion.  No  one  is  eligible  for  membership 
unless  he  is  the  owner  of  at  least  one-fourth  of  a  coach, 
or  "  drag,"  as  the  vehicle  is  called.  Candidates  must- 
be  proposed  and  seconded  by  two  members  of  the 
club,  and  voted  for  by  sealed  ballot.  One  negative 
ballot  in  ten  excludes.  The  club  is  very  careful  as  to 
the  admission  of  new  members,  for  Plutus  is  the  ruling 
divinity  here. 

The  members  of  the  club  are  uniformed.    The  dress 


262 


NEW  YORK. 


consists  of  a  dark-green  cut-away  coat,  with  brass  but- 
tons, and  a  yellow,  striped  waistcoat.  Pants  are  ad 
libitum,  though  generally  they  are  like  the  coat  in  color, 
but  a  high  white  hat  is  the  "  tip  of  the  style."  The 
evening  dress  is  of  the  same  materials  and  colors,  cut 
like  the  conventional  evening  dress.  The  annual  dues 
are  ten  dollars,  and  the  ostensible  object  of  the  club 
is  to  "  encourage  four-in-hand  driving." 

The  annual  parade  of  the  club  is  held  on  the  last 
Saturday  in  May,  and  is  known  in  society  as  "  Coach- 
ing Day."  It  calls  forth  a  general  turnout  of  the  fash- 
ionables, and  the  scene  along  the  avenue  and  at  the 
entrance  to  the  Park  is  brilliant  and  interesting.  The 
"meet"  is  always  at  the  Hotel  Brunswick,  which  is 
gayly  decorated  for  the  occasion.  The  coaches  are 
drawn  up  in  line,  led  by  the  "  turn-out"  of  the  president 
of  the  club,  and  the  route  is  up  Fifth  avenue  to  59th 
street;  through  the  Park  to  Mount  St.  Vincent;  back 
to  the  avenue  ;  down  that  street  to  Washington  Square, 
and  then  along  the  avenue  again  to  the  Hotel  Bruns- 
wick, where  the  parade  is  dismissed.  Then  follows 
the  annual  club  dinner  at  the  hotel.  The  avenue  and 
Park  drives  are  lined  with  carriages  and  equestrians, 
and  the  windows  of  the  mansions  along  the  route  are 
filled  with  bright  and  smiling  faces.  The  fashionable 
world  is  out  in  all  its  strength,  and  is  reinforced  by 
crowds  of  dwellers  in  the  less  select  circles  of  the  city. 
The  throng  is  so  great,  that  along  the  entire  route  the 
procession  is  obliged  to  pursue  a  slow  and  stately 
pace.  This  enables  the  richly-dressed  ladies  who  fill 
the  seats  of  the  "drags"  to  show  their  millinery  to 
greater  advantage.    Care  is  taken  by  the  fair  riders 


264 


NEW  YORK. 


to  make  the  colors  of  their  dresses  harmonize  with  tha 
prevailing  tints  of  the  coaches,  and*  each  turn-out,  as  it 
flashes  by,  is  a  study  in  form,  color,  and  grace  of 
movement.  The  avenue  and  the  Park  drives  at  such 
times  are  musical  with  the  long-drawn  notes  of  the 
horns  of  th's  outriders  of  the  coaches,  and  the  clear, 
soft  sky  of  the  May  afternoon  gives  a  glow  to  the 
scene  that  .greatly  heightens  its  beauty. 

"Truly  Coaching  Day"  is  an  enjoyable  occasion, 
both  to  those  who  take  part  in  the  performance  and 
to  the  lookers-on.  Colonel  Kane  well  deserves  the 
thanks  society  for  his  efforts,  for  he  has  not  only 
given  it  a  new  sensation,  but  a  healthful  and  innocent 
pleasure. 

During  the  season  the  "drags"  may  be  seen  daily 
on  the  avenue,  or  in  the  Park,  and  at  the  races  they 
form  a  prominent  feature  of  the  scene. 


MADISON  AVENUE, 


265 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  STREETS  OF  NEW  YORK. 

|L/M)ISON  AVBNUK — MILES   OF    BROWN   STONE — PARK     AVENUE — LEXINGTON    AVBNTTE — THIRTY- 
FOURTH    AND  FIFTY-SEVENTH    STREETS — MAGNIFICENT    RESIDENCES  THIRD    AVENUE  THK 

GREAT  HIGHWAY  OF  THE  EAST  SIDE — EIGHTH  AVENUE  THE  SMALL  TRADERS*  PARADISE — THB 
SATURDAY  NIGHT  MARKET — TWENTY-THIRD  AND  FOURTEENTH  STREETS— DISAPPEARANCE  OF 

LANDMARKS  CHANGES  IN  THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  STREETS — A  GLANCE  AT  TWENTY-THIRD 

STREET  TO-DAY — "THE  BEGGARS*  PARADISE*' — STREET  CHARACTERS — A  YOUNG  IMPOSTOR — 
KICKED  FROM  A  HORSE  CAR  INTO  A  HOME — BLEECKER  STREET — LIFE  IN  BOHEMIA — A  STREET 
WHERE  NO  QUESTIONS  ARE  ASKED — GRAND  STREET — CHATHAM  STREET — THE  CHILDREN  OF 
ISRAEL  AND  THEIR  WAYS — FULTON  STREET — NASSAU  STREET — A  CROWDED  NEIGHBORHOOD — ■ 
PECULIARITIES  OF  THE  STREET — PINE  STREET — AMONG  THE  MONEYED  MEN — WEST  AN» 
SOUTH  STREETS — ALONG  THE  WATER  SIDE — BUSY  SCENES. 

Elsewhere  we  have  described  the  principal  thorough- 
fares of  New  York  at  length.  In  this  chapter  we  pro- 
pose to  glance  briefly  at  some  of  the  prominent  streets 
of  the  city,  of  which  the  limits  of  this  work  do  not 
allow  such  extended  notice. 

The  street  immediately  east  of  Fifth  avenue  is  Madi- 
son avenue,  the  fashionable  rival  of  the  former 
thoroughfare.  Begining  at  23d  street,  it  extends  in  an 
unbroken  line  to  the  Harlem  River.  At  the  lower  end 
of  the  avenue,  from  23d  to  26th  streets,  is  Madison 
Square,  described  elsewhere.  From  23d  to  59th  street, 
a  distance  of  about  two  miles,  Madison  avenue  is  built 
up  as  handsomely  as  Fifth  avenue.  The  dwellings  are 
chiefly  of  brownstone,  and  rival  the  Fifth  avenue  man- 
sions in  external  and  internal  splendor.  Stately 
churches  and  splendid  club  houses  break  the  line  of 
dwellings,  and  give  an  air  of  picturesqueness  to  the 
street.  There  is  not  so  much  travel  here  as  on  Fifth 
avenue,  and  the  street,  therefore,  constitutes  a  pleas- 
anter  dwelling  place  than  its  more  famous  rival. 


266 


NEW  YORK. 


Immediately  east  of  Madison  avenue  is  Park  avenue. 
This  name  is  applied  to  the  portion  of  Fourth  avenue 
lying  between  34th  and  4.26.  streets.  It  occupies  the 
centre  of  Murray  Hill,  and  is  one  of  the  most  ultra 
fashionable  sections  of  the  city.  The  mansions  which 
line  the  street  are  among  the  handsomest  in  New 
York,  some  of  them  being  especially  noted  for  the 
beauty  of  their  designs.  Park  avenue  is  built  over  the 
tunnel  by  which  the  line  of  the  Fourth  avenue  railroad 
is  carried  through  Murray  Hill  from  34th  to  42d  street, 
and  is  the  widest  of  all  the  fashionable  thoroughfares. 
In  the  centre  of  the  street  is  a  succession  of  small, 
handsome,  enclosed  parks,  from  which  the  avenue  takes 
its  name,  planted  with  flowers  and  shrubbery,  which 
give  to  the  street  a  pleasant  and  somewhat  rural 
aspect.  Each  of  these  individually  is  a  city  square  in 
length,  and  is  pierced  with  a  grated  aperture,  through 
which  light  and  air  are  supplied  to  the  tunnel  below.  A 
fine  roadway  runs^on  each  side  of  the  enclosures,  and 
affords  ample  room  for  the  travel  of  the  street.  The 
avenue  is  noted  for  its  exclusiveness.  Being  so  short, 
and  being  already  occupied,  there  is  no  room  for  new 
comers. 

Lexington  avenue,  commencing  at  14th  street  and 
lying  midway  between  Third  and  Fourth  avenues,  is 
the  next  street  east  of  Park  avenue.  It  is  broken  at 
20th  street  by  Grammercy  Park,  which  extends  to  2 1  st 
street,  but  above  that  street  the  avenue  extends  in  an 
unbroken  line  to  the  Harlem  River.  From  14th  street 
to  Grammercy  Park  it  is  known  as  Irving  Place.  It  is 
handsomely  built,  brownstone  being  the  prevailing 
material.    The  lower  part,  around  and  above  Gram- 


« 


1^. 


THIRD  AVENUE. 


267 


mercy  Park  is  occupied  by  the  residences  of  families 
of  wealth  and  fashion,  but  the  upper  part  makes  little 
claim  to  social  distinction.  It  is  a  pleasant  residence 
street,  and  one  of  the  cleanest  in  the  city. 

34th  and  57th  streets  are  lined  for  several  squares^ 
east  and  west  of  Fifth  avenue,  with  palatial  mansions, 
and  are  among  the  ultra  fashionable  thoroughfares. 
Indeed,  nearly  all  the  cross  streets  above  34th,  and 
between  Lexington  and  Sixth  avenues,  are  magnificently 
built,  and  are  included  within  the  limits  of  the  world  of 
fashion.  Many  of  these  streets,  within  the  boundaries 
named,  are  built  up  solidly  with  splendid  mansions 
which  would  do  credit  even  to  Fifth  avenue. 

The  Third  avenue  begins  at  9th  street,  where  it  joins 
the  Bowery,  and  runs  in  a  straight  line  to  the  Harlem 
River  at  1 30th  street.  It  is  six  miles  in  length,  and  has 
always  been  the  principal  thoroughfare  of  the  east  side 
of  the  island.  It  is  now  traversed  by  the  Elevated 
Railroad  and  a  line  of  horse  cars,  each  of  which  trans- 
port enormous  numbers  of  passengers  daily.  It  is 
almost  entirely  built  up  from  end  to  end,  and  is  devo- 
ted to  small  retail  stores,  whose  aggregate  business 
represents  a  gigantic  traffic.  Along  its  entire  length 
it  has  not  a  single  building  of  prominence,  and  the 
street  has  an  aspect  of  sameness  and  monotony  that 
is  not  to  be  found  in  the  west  side  thoroughfares.  But 
saloons  and  tenement  houses  abound,  and  the  upper 
portions  of  the  houses  are  occupied  by  several  families, 
each  having  but  a  single  floor.  Of  late  years  a  num- 
ber of  cheap  apartment  houses  have  been  erected 
along  the  upper  part  of  the  avenue,  and  are  occupied 
by  families  of  small  means. 


268 


NEW  YORK. 


The  Sixth  avenue  has  been  noticed  elsewhere. 

The  Eighth  avenue  is  to  the  west  side,  what  the 
Third  is  to  the  east.  It  commences  at  Greenwich  street 
and  Abingdon  Square,  and  extends  to  the  Harlem 
River,  about  six  miles  distant.  Like  Third  avenue  it  is 
devoted  to  small  retail  dealers,  whose  transactions, 
though  insignificant  in  themselves,  make  up  an  enor- 
mous aggregate.  It  is  the  paradise  of  the  Jews,  and 
cheap  jewelry  and  clothing  stores  abound.  It  is  poorly 
built,  the  only  building  of  prominence  on  the  avenue 
being  the  Grand  Opera  House  at  the  corner  of  23d 
street.  In  many  portions  of  the  street  the  stock  in 
trade  of  the  dealers  overflows  the  stores,  and  is  dis- 
played in  stands  along  the  sidewalk.  The  street  is 
always  crowded,  and  the  sidewalk  dealers  appear  to 
drive  a  thriving  trade.  On  Saturday  night  the  avenu^e 
at  42d  street  presents  a  curious  sight.  Numerous 
wagons  are  ranged  along  the  curbstones,  and  stands 
are  erected  along  the  sidewalk.  These  stretch  out  into 
42d  street  to  the  westward,  and  each  is  brightly  illumi- 
nated with  blazing  lights  which  even  a  strong  wind 
cannot  extinguish.  Fruits,  oysters,  fish,  game,  provi- 
sions of  all  kinds,  are  sold  here  by  licensed  venders, 
and  for  this  one  night  of  the  week  a  general  market  is 
held,  which  is  patronized  by  vast  numbers  of  the  people 
living  near,  especially  the  poorer  classes.  In  the  neigh- 
borhood of  59th  street  a  number  of  large  Apartment 
Houses"  are  springing  up.  From  59th  to  i  loth  street 
Eighth  avenue  forms  the  western  boundary  of  the 
Central  Park,  and  above  the  park  it  is  sparsely  built  up, 
being  lined  mainly  with  market  gardens.  It  is  traversed 
along  its  entire  length  by  a  line  of  horse  cars,  and 


TWENTY-THIRD  STREET. 


269 


from  about  1 12th  street  to  155th,  at  the  Harlem  River, 
the  middle  of  the  street  is  occupied  by  the  Metropoli- 
tan Elevated  Railroad. 

Twenty-third  and  14th  streets  are  broad,  handsome 
thoroughfares,  extending  across  the  island  from  river 
to  river.  Twenty  years  ago  they  were  the  chosen 
seats  of  wealth  and  fashion,  and  from  Broadway  west- 
ward were  lined  with  superb  mansions.  Now  they  are 
busy,  bustling  marts  of  trade.  The  old  mansions  have 
disappeared,  and  in  their  places  stand  huge  iron,  mar- 
ble, and  stone  structures,  devoted  to  the  various 
branches  of  the  retail  trade.  Dry  goods,  furniture, 
millinery,  sewing-machines,  and  musical  instruments, 
are  the  trades  chiefly  to  be  found  on  14th  street. 
Scarcely  a  vestige  of  the  old  street  remains,  and  those 
who,  twenty  years  ago,  thought  it  the  perfection  of  a 
residence  street,  would  fail  to  recognize  it,  so  thor- 
oughly has  it  gone  over  to  trade. 

Twenty-third  street  retained  its  private  character 
longer  than  14th.  In  bygone  days  it  was  one  of  the 
most  fashionable  promenades  of  the  city.  On  sunny 
mornings,  nurses  with  infants  in  their  arms,  and  chil- 
dren with  hoops,  go-carts  and  toys,  monopolized  the 
sidewalks ;  elegantly-attired  ladies  sauntered  along  ; 
and  splendid  equipages  stood  before  the  stately  man- 
sions, while  their  mistresses  paid  calls  within.  There 
was  no  haste,  no  bustle.  Although  so  near  Broadway, 
the  street  was  peaceful  and  quiet.  Now  the  omnibuses 
and  the  street  cars,  and  countless  wagons,  trucks,  and 
peddler's  carts  make  the  place  a  very  Babel. 

.Twenty-third  street  presents  quite  a  bizarre  appear- 
ance, from  Broadway  to  Eighth  avenue.    Here  are 


270 


NEW  YORK. 


hotels,  express  offices,  theatres,  beer  saloons,  restau- 
rants, rum  shops,  French  flats,  dry  goods  stores, 
stables,  churches,  undertakers'  warehouses,  and  a  large 
music  garden,  where  concerts  are  given  and  beer  drank 
nightly.  The  high  rents  of  Broadway  have  done  much 
to  bring  about  this  condition  of  things  ;  but,  more  than 
this,  the  gradual  progress  of  trade,  and  the  overcrowd- 
ing of  the  stores  along  the  line  of  the  surface  roads, 
have  effected  the  changes.  Most  of  all,  however,  it  is 
due  to  the  establishment  of  the  Elevated  Railroads, 
which  bring  the  two  extremities  of  the  city  within  half 
an  hour's  distance  of  each  other,  and  make  23d  street 
the  natural  half-way  stopping-place  for  shoppers  and 
sight-seers. 

There  are  nearly  a  score  of  refreshment  saloons  in 
Twenty-third  street,  between  Broadway  and  Eighth 
avenue,  ranging  from  the  pretentious  hotel  and  club 
house  to  the  simple  bar  for  beer.  Billiard  rooms  and 
Masonic  lodges  abound,  boot-black  stands  decorate 
every  corner,  and  dry  goods  are  exhibited  in  the 
modest  thread  and  needle  shops  as  well  as  in  palatial 
warehouses  that  cost  half  a  million  of  dollars.  Trot- 
ting stables  and  theatres  are  near  neighbors,  and  some 
of  the  finest  residences  in  the  city  have  been  turned 
into  flats  for  milliners,  dentists,  and  barbers.  For 
some  reason  the  theatres  in  Twenty- third  street  have 
always  had  but  a  shaky  existence.  Two  of  them  will 
live  in  local  history;  one  as  the  scene  of  a  monumental 
dramatic  failure,  the  other  as  the  place  where  financial 
giants  fought  for  supremacy  in  one  of  the  great  rail- 
roads of  the  world. 

Twenty-third  and  Fourteenth  street  constitute  the 


THE  beggars'  paradise.  271 

Beggars'  Paradise,"  the  former  by  day  and  the  latter 
by  night.  The  same  cripples,  hand-organ  men,  Italian 
men  and  women,  and  professional  boy  beggars  who 
infest  Twenty-third  street  by  day  change  their  quarters 
to  Fourteenth  street,  when  the  darkness  settles  down 


PLEASE  GIVE  ME  A  PENNY. 


over  the  cit}',  and  the  blaze  of  the  electric  lights  bursts 
forth  over  the  latter  thoroughfare. 

These  beggars  constitute  an  intolerable  nuisance, 
and  some  of  them  are  characters  in  their  way.  It  is 
noticeable  that  nearly  all  the  professional  beggars 


272 


NEW  YORK. 


have  watchers  and  guardians  near  them.  One  very 
old  man,  with  a  head  as  bald  as  a  billiard  ball,  takes 
his  stand  every  day,  hat  in  hand,  near  the  residence  of 
a  prominent  city  official  on  Twenty-third  street,  while 
he  challenges  every  passer  by  with  the  most  piteous 
looks.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  and  gen- 
erally in  the  calm  retreat  of  a  church,  stands  his  "pal." 
If  business  is  good,  the  two  now  and  then  adjourn  to 
a  cheap  beer  saloon  in  Sixth  avenue,  and  lay  out  a 
part  of  the  receipts  in  drink.  Another  is  a  hideous 
looking  fellow  with  St.  Vitus'  dance,  and  a  terribly 
scarred  face  and  mutilated  hand.  He  pays  more  at- 
tention to  ladies  than  to  men.  As  one  approaches  he 
begins  to  bow.  Fastening  his  evil  eyes  upon  her,  he 
bows  and  bows  until  she  has  passed.  If  she  gives  him 
a  coin,  he  returns  a  ghastly  grin  of  gratitude.  If  she 
bestows  no  notice  upon  him,- the  look  of  entreaty  in 
his  face  changes  to  a  scowl  of  positive  malignity.  This 
beggar's  pal  is  a  female,  and  the  two  can  be  seen  fre- 
quently counting  their  spoils  on  Seventh  avenue  near 
Twenty-second  street.  The  most  systematic  beggar 
of  all  is  a  man  paralyzed  from  his  waist  downward. 
He  sits  in  a  four-wheeled  wagon,  and  is  drawn  to  a 
fresh  station  each  day.  He  works  the  thoroughfare 
between  Fourth  and  Eighth  avenue,  on  both  sides. 
He  is  a  large,  fine  looking  man,  and  so  successfully 
imposes  an  expression  of  melancholy  into  his  large 
eyes  that  the  ladies  cannot  resist  the  impulse  to  pity 
his  misfortunes  and  reward  his  pertinacity.  The 
creature  who  wheels  the  wagon  and  watches  the 
contributors,  is  an  elderly  man  with  a  vicious  face. 
He  makes  his  companion  settle  up  three  or  four  times 


A  YOUNG  beggar's  TRICK. 


273 


a  day,  and  is  liberal  with  his  oaths  if  his  share  does  not 
equal  the  amount  he  expected. 

The  worst  feature  is  the  begging  of  children.  They 
follow  the  passers-by  with  the  greatest  persistence, 
urging  them  to  buy  hair-pins,  shawl-pins,  matches, 
and  a  dozen  other  things  for  which  they  have  no  use. 
There  are  three  well-known  workers  of  the  Twenty- 
third  street  cars,  who  are  not  over  ten  years  old,  one 
of  them,  in  fact,  being  under  seven.  They  adopt  all 
manner  of  dodges  and  tricks  and  constitute  a  sore  an- 
noyance to  the  passengers.  One  rainy  night„a  little  six 
year  old  child  leaned  against  a  tree  between  Sixth  and 
Seventh  avenues,  and  began  to  cry  bitterly.  His  grief 
attracted  the  attention  of  a  kind-hearted  lady,  who  « 
stopped  and  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  His 
only  reply  was  a  fresh  burst  of  tears.  A  crowd  soon 
gathered,  and  the  little  rascal  saw  his  opportunity. 
Taking  from  under  his  arm  a  package  of  evening 
papers,  soaked  through  with  the  rain,  he  stated,  in  a 
voice  choked  with  sobs,  that  he  must  sell  these  papers 
or  be  beaten  when  he  returned  home,  and  now  the 
rain  had  ruined  them,  and  nobody  would  buy  them. 
Some  generous  person  in  the  crowd  at  once  took  the 
papers,  gave  the  lad  a  quarter,  and  told  him  to  gc» 
home  in  peace.  The  young  beggar  was  off  like  a. 
flash  as  soon  as  he  received  the  money,  and  was 
immediately  joined  by  a  companion  who  had  been 
waiting  for  him,  and  together  they  proceeded  to  a 
cheap  oyster  house  to  enjoy  a  stew,  and  laugh  over 
the  tender-heartedness  of  the  philanthropist  who  had 
so  easily  taken  the  bait. 

Now  and  then  a  case  of  real  distress  occurs  among 

18 


274 


NEW  YORK. 


these  professional  child  beggars,  but  not  often,  as  the 
routes  are  carefully  watched  and  guarded  by  the  old 
hands,  and  intruders  on  "claims"  are  as  summarily 
dealt  with  as  they  are  in  a  western  mining  camp.  One 
night  last  winter,  when  the  keen  wind  whistled  around 
the  corner  of  Fifth  avenue  and  Twenty-third  street,  a 
bob-tailed  car  was  jolting  along.  On  the  little  rear 
platform,  curled  up  like  a  rat,  was  a  very  small  boy, 
with  a  visorless  cap.  He  was  sound  asleep,  and  the 
driving  sleet  was  fast  stiffening  his  ragged  coat.  With 
a  slam  and  a  bang,  a  well-dressed  young  snob  inside 
shoved  back  the  sliding  door,  and  as  he  endeavored  to 
get  off,  his  foot  unwittingly  struck  the  drenched  waif  on 
the  platform.  With  an  oath  at  the  delay,  he  kicked 
the  sleeping  child  into  the  street,  where  good  fortune 
rolled  him  beyond  the  track  of  the  Broadway  line,  on 
which  a  Broome  street  car  was  bounding  along.  Be- 
fore the  lad  had  rubbed  his  sleepy  eyes,  the  fine  young 
gentleman  was  caught  by  the  collar  of  his  fur-lined 
ulstef,  and  hauled  to  the  corner  where  the  stalwart 
policeman,  who  had  seen  the  outrage,  had  laid  the  boy. 
The  little  fellow,  more  frightened  by  the  "cop"  than 
hurt  by  the  fall,  glanced  around  in  alarm,  and  the 
offender  was  dismissed  with  a  severe  and  well  merited 
rebuke  from  the  officer.  The  policeman  eyed  the  lad 
quietly  for  awhile,  and  then  asked  what  he  was  doing 
on  the  car  platform.  "I  wa'nt  doing  nuthin,"  was  the 
reply;  "I  was  only  sleepin'."  "Why  didn't  you  go 
home  to  sleep?"  "Ain't  got  none."  "Where  do  you 
live?"  "Anywheres."  "Have  you  had  any  supper?" 
"No."  "Any  breakfast?"  "Plenty."  "Where  did 
you  get  it?"    "In  the  box  on  Eighth  avenue,  just 


BLEECKER  STREET. 


275 


round  the  corner  of  Twenty-third  street."  "What  did 
you  eat?"  "Tater  peeHns  and  a  piece  of  sausage." 
"Have  you  a  father  or  mother?"  "Father's  dead, 
and  mother's  on  the  Island.  They  never  warn't  no 
good,  nohow."  "Would  you  like  some  dinner?" 
"No,  you  don't.  You  can't  catch  me,  my  covey."  "I 
don't  wan't  to  catch  you,  I  want  to  help  you.  Would 
you  like  some  dinner?"  "Would  I  like  a  dinner? 
Would  I  like  forty  bloody  dinners?  You  just  try  me." 
He  was  given  a  dinner,  and  afterwards  a  bed  in 
the  station  house.  Subsequent  inquiry  by  the  police 
proved  the  truth  of  the  little  fellow's  story,  and  he  was 
kindly  cared  for,  and  a  home  secured  for  him.  He 
may  live  to  be  a  useful  man,  and  may  yet  thank  the 
well  dressed  ruffian  who  kicked  him  from  want  and 
beggary  into  the  hands  of  a  kind-hearted  policeman. 

Bleecker  street  is  another  of  the  noted  thorough- 
fares of  the  great  city.  From  the  Bowery  westward 
it  is  lined  with  rows  of  comfortable  old  fashioned 
dwellings,  all  of  which  speak  of  former  glory  and  pres- 
ent distress.  The  street  was  at  one  time  the  chosen 
seat  of  the  fashion  and  wealth  of  the  city,  and  it  was 
then  that  these  stately  old  houses  were  built.  Until 
the  march  of  trade  drove  the  fashionable  world  into 
Washington  Square  and  Fifth  avenue,  to  be  the 
owner  of  a  Bleecker  street  mansion  was  to  be  at  the 
heighth  of  fashionable  felicity.  Now  the  buildings  have 
been  converted  into  stores,  restaurants,  and  beer 
saloons,  and  the  street  is  known  as  the  headquarters 
of  the  Bohemian  element  of  the  city's  population. 
Struggling  artists,  musicians,  actresses,  ballet  girls, 
sewing  women,  all  sorts  of  people  who  live  by  their 


276 


NEW  YORK. 


wits,  find  homes  here,  and  it  is  a  queer  looking  crowd 
one  meets  on  the  sidewalks.  The  street  cannot  be 
said  to  be  bad  or  even  disreputable,  but  it  is  at  the 
best  a  sort  of  doubtful  neighborhood,  which  people 
with  reputations  to  lose  avoid.  Life  here  is  free  from 
most  of  the  restraints  imposed  elsewhere,  arid  so  long 
as  the  denizens  of  the  neighborhood  do  not  actually 
violate  the  law,  they  may  do  as  they  please.  It  is 
emphatically  a  street  in  which  no  questions  are  asked. 

Grand  street  east  of  the  Bowery  is  one  of  the  busi- 
est and  liveliest  in  New  York.  It  is  devoted  to  the 
cheap  dry  goods  and  millinery  trades,  and  does  a  thriv- 
ing business.  Some  of  the  establishments  are  large 
and  elegant,  but  the  customers  belong  chiefly  to  the^ 
humbler  walks  of  life.  Occasionally  a  west  side  lad}' 
in  search  of  a  bargain  comes  into  the  street,  but  such 
visitors  are  rare.  On  Saturday  night  the  street  is  in 
its  glory.  The  stores  are  open  until  a  late  hour,  and 
the  colored  lamps  of  the  stores  and  blazing  torches  o^ 
the  sidewalk  hucksters'  stands  give  to  it  the  effect  of  a 
partial  illumination.  Shops  and  sidewalks  are  all 
thronged,  and  the  air  is  alive  with  the  sound  of  voices. 

Chatham  street,  extending  from  Chatham  Square  to 
City  Hall  Square,  has  long  been  famous  in  the  local 
history  of  New  York.  It  is  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
in  length,  and  narrow  and  dirty  throughout.  Near  the 
City  Hall  Square  are  several  cheap  hotels  and  fair  res- 
taurants, but  the  remainder  of  the  street  is  taken  up 
with  old  clothes  stores,  cheap  clothing  stores,  pawn- 
brokers' shops,  beer  saloons,  dance-houses  of  the  low- 
est description,  and  establishments  of  various  kinds,. 
The  dealers  in  the  street  are  nearly  all  Jews,  the 


il 


NASSAU  STREET. 


277 


sharpest  and  most  unscrupulous  of  their  class,  who  do 
not  hesitate  to  swindle  their  customers  before  their 
very  eyes,  and  then  call  on  the  police  to  arrest  their 
victims  if  they  resist.  The  streets  leading  to  the  right 
and  left  run  off  to  the  Five  Points  and  other  similar 
localities,  to  which  Chatham  street  is  a  worthy  neigh- 
bor. Respectable  people  in  New  York  avoid  making 
purchases  here,  and  the  stranger  would  do  well  to  fol- 
low their  example.  A  heavy  tide  of  travel  passes 
through  this  wretched  street.  Several  prominent  lines 
of  horse-cars  find  their  way  to  the  City  Hall  Square 
and  the  Post  Office  through  it,  and  overhead  the  Third- 
avenue  branch  of  the  Elevated  road  whirls  its  crowded 
trains  to  and  from  the  terminus  opposite  the  City  Hall. 

Fulton  street  is  the  great  artery  through  which  the 
enormous  stream  of  travel  and  traffic  between  New 
York  and  Brooklyn  ebbs  and  flows.  From  Broadway 
to  the  Fulton  Ferry,  on  the  East  River,  it  is  always 
crowded  with  vehicles  and  pedestrians.  It  is  well 
built,  and  contains  a  number  of  handsome  business 
structures. 

Nassau  street  runs  parallel  w^ith  Broadway,  immedi^ 
ately  east  of  it,  and  extends  from  Wall  street  to  Priat- 
ing-House  Square.  It  is  one  of  the  narrowest  streets 
in  the  cit}',  and  is  built  up  with  lofty  houses,  which  shut 
out  the  sunlight  and  give  it  a  dark  and  gloomy  appear- 
ance. The  roadway  is  so  narrow  that  two  vehicles 
can  scarcely  pass  each  other,  and  the  sidewalks  afford 
such  little  room,  that  half  the  passers  through  the 
street  are  obliged  to  take  to  the  roadway.  The  south- 
ern end  of  the  street  is  taken  up  with  handsome  bank 
and  insurance  buildings,  generally  of  marble.  The 


278 


NEW  YORK. 


northern  part  contains  numbers  of  old  book  stores,  and 
is  a  favorite  locality  with  the  stationery  trade.  Real 
estate  men  and  diamond  merchants  like  the  street,  and 
dealers  in  watches  and  jewelry  also  have  their  head- 
quarters here,  generally  in  the  second  stories  of  the 
houses.  Each  house  appears  to  contain  a  little  world 
within  its  four  walls.  The  front,  the  stairways,  and  the 
walls  of  the  vestibules  are  covered  with  scores  of  signs, 
setting  forth  the  nature  of  the  various  pursuits  carried 
on  within.  Enter  one  of  these  "offices,"  and  you  will 
find  it  a  mere  closet.  Yet  enormous  rents  are  paid  for 
them,  and  their  occupants  remain  in  them  as  long  as 
possible,  or  until  a  fortunate  change  in  their  business 
sends  them  to  better-arranged  quarters.  It  has  been 
said  that  Nassau  street  is  a  good  place  to  hide  in,  and 
it  would  seem  that  in  the  thousand  and  one  "  estab- 
lishments "  with  which  the  tall  buildings  on  the  street 
are  filled,  one  might  very  easily  slip  out  of  observation 
and  be  forgotten.  You  wonder,  indeed,  how  persons 
having  business  with  the  occupants  of  these  dens  ever 
find  them.  This  characteristic  of  the  street  renders  it 
a  favorite  place  with  persons  who  carry  on  unlawful 
trades,  and  do  business  by  means  of  circulars,  and  un- 
der assumed  names. 

Pine  street  extends  from  Broadway  eastward,  imme- 
diately north  of  Wall  street.  It  is  a  narrow  thorough- 
fare, but  between  Nassau  street  and  Broadway  is  lined 
with  noble  structures  occupied  by  banks  and  corporate 
institutions.  These  buildings  are  so  tall  that  the  street 
is  always  in  shadow.  At  the  head  of  the  street,  in 
Trinity  churchyard,  rises  the  Martyr's  monument. 

Two  of  the  busiest  and  most  crowded  streets  in  the 


NEW  YORK. 


city  are  South  and  West  streets,  the  former  running 
along  the  East  River,  and  the  latter  along  the  Hudson 
or  North  River.  The  great  Brooklyn  ferries  have 
their  landings  on  the  former  street,  while  on  West 
street  are  the  ferries  which  connect  New  York  with  the 
shores  of  New  Jersey.  Both  are  thronged  throughout 
the  day  with  a  constant  stream  of  heavily  laden 
wagons  and  trucks.  Along  the  East  River  front  are 
long  lines  of  sailing  craft,  from  the  huge  Indiaman 
down  to  the  little  coasting  sloop,  and  in  the  various 
slips  which  break  the  line  of  South  street  the  barges 
which  are  brought  down  the  Hudson  from  the  Erie 
Canal  have  their  headquarters.  On  West  street  are 
the  piers  of  the  various  railway  lines  terminating  in 
Jersey  City  and  Hoboken,  and  here  also  are  the 
wharves  of  the  great  European  steamship  lines.  Each 
street  has  its  peculiar  characteristics,  but  both  are  alike 
in  the  dirt  and  filth  with  which  they  are  covered,  the 
roar  and  crash  of  vehicles,  and  the  difficulties  which 
beset  the  pedestrian  in  his  efforts  to  struggle  across 
them  from  the  sidewalk  to  the  ferries. 


PATENT  DIVORCES. 


281 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

DIVORCES  WITHOUT  PUBLICITY. 

QUEER  ADVERTISEMENTS — THE  "DIVORCE  RING" — ITS  FIELD  OF  OPERATIONS — ^THB  DrYOHCB 
LAWYER — WHO  HE  IS — HEADQUARTERS  OF  THE  MEMBERS  OF  TKB  RING — 3CKNE  LN  A  LAW- 
YER'S OFFICE — A  RICH  CLIENT — "  OKF  WITH  THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  OK  WITH  THE  Nliw" — A 
CHARACTERISTIC  CASE — "THE  EASIEST  THING  IN  TH  E  WORLE*  TO  GET  A  DIVOKCe" — WEST- 
ERN DIVORCES — HOW  A  MERCHANT  MADE  A  MISTRESS  OF  HIS  WIFE — WHO  ARE  TU£  CLIENTS 

—COST  OF  A  DIVORCE — HOW  IT  IS  MANAGED — THE  REFEREB  SYSTEM — SPOTTING  A  HUSUAND  

MANUFACTURING    EVIDENCE — THE    '/  OLD    MAN  "    ENTRAPPED  PROFESSIONAL  WITNESSES  

THE   DIVORCE    lawyer's   SYSTEM   OF    DRUMMING*  UP  BUSINESS — DIRTY~WORK  FOR  TEN  PER 

CENT— SERVING   A  SUMMONS— A    MOCKERY  OF  JUSTICE— POWER  OF  THE  RING  THE  COURTS 

AND  BAR  AFRAID  TO  BREAK  IT  UP. 

A  leading  New  York  daily,  of  a  recent  date,  contains 
the  following  advertisements  : — 

DIVORCES  without  publicity  in  30  days  ;  all  causes ;  every  State ;  consulta. 
tion  free ;  experienced  lawyer  ;  success  guaranteed. 

Smith,  Brown  &  Co.,  86  —  Street. 

"PvIVORCES  cheaply,  without  publicity;  desertion,  incompatibility,  non-sup- 
Jl/  port,  intemperance,  compulsory  marriages;  parties  any  State ;  explanatory 
blanks  free  ;  always  successful;  consultations  free;  confidential. 

Lawyer  Smoothtongue,  105  —  Street. 

Similar  advertisements  are  to  be  found  in  other 
journals,  especially  in  those  of  "sporting"  proclivities. 
They  announce  to  the  public  that  there  is  in  New  York 
a  powerful  and  regularly  organized  "  Ring,"  whose 
business  it  is  to  untie  the  marriage-knot,  and  they 
guarantee  to  do  it  with  the  ease  and  celerity  with  which 
it  is  tied.  This  would  seem  strange  in  a  State  where 
the  laws  regulating  divorces  are  so  rigid  ;  but  the  di- 
vorce lawyer  knows  how  to  set  even  these  at  defiance, 
and  that  his  efforts  are  successful,  is  shown  by  the 
handsome  income  he  enjoys  and  the  elegant  style  in 
which  he  lives.    He  does  not  rely  upon  New  York 


282 


NEW  YORK. 


alone  for  his  field  of  operations  ;  other  States  are  more 
liberal  in  this  matter,  and  if  the  separation  of  husband 
and  wife  cannot  be  procured  in  the  Empire  State,  he 
can  easily  accomplish  it  in  some  other  part  of  the 
Union. 

The  divorce  lawyer  devotes  himself  to  this  branch 
of  his  profession  exclusively.  He  is  sometimes  an  ex- 
member  of  the  Bar,  who  has  been  disbarred  for  dis- 
honest practices,  and  cannot  appear  directly  in  the 
case  himself.  He  hires  some  shyster  lawyer  to  go 
through  the  formalities  of  the  courts  for  him,  and  some- 
times succeeds  in  inducing  a  barrister  of  good  stand<- 
ing  to  act  for  him.  His  office  is  usually  in  the  quarter 
most  frequented  by  practitioners  of  standing,  and  is 
located  in  some  large  building  with  long  halls,  so  that 
his  clients  may  come  and  go  without  attracting  special 
notice.  The  outer  office  is  fitted  up  in  regular  legal 
style,  with  substantial  desks  and  tables,  and  the  walls  are 
lined  with  cases  of  law  books.  The  private  consulta- 
tion room  is  elegantly  furnished,  and  is  provided  with 
the  coziest  arm-chairs,  in  which  the  clients  can  sit  at 
their  ease,  and  pour  into  the  sympathizing  ears  of  the 
"counsellor"  their  tales  of  woe. 

Let  us  seat  ourselves,  unseen,  in  the  private  office 
of  a  leading  divorce  firm.  They  are  located  at  the 
rear  of  a  superb  building  on  Broadway,  and  have  ele- 
gantly fitted-up  apartments.     Counsellor   ,  the 

head  of  the  firm,  conducts  the  consultations.  He  is  a 
portly,  smooth-faced,  oily-tongued  man,  possessing 
great  powers  of  cheek  and  plausiveness,  just  the  man 
to  lead  a  hesitating  client  to  take  the  decisive  step.  A 
clerk  from  the  outer  office  announces  a  visitor.  A 


THE  LAWYER  AND  HIS  CLIENT. 


283 


richly  dressed,  closely  veiled  lady  is  shown  in,  and  the 
pordy  counsellor,  rising  courteously,  places  a  chair  for 
her.  The  seat  is  taken,  the  veil  thrown  back,  and  the 
counsellor  finds  himself  face  to  face  with  a  woman  of 
beauty  and  refinement,  and  evidently  of  wealth — a, 
most  desirable  client.  In  his  blandest  tones  he  invites 
her  to  state  the  nature  of  her  business  with  him. 
Then  follows  a  long  tale  of  domestic  unhappiness,  the 
sum  and  substance  of  which  is  that  she  is  tired  of  her 
husband,  and  wants  a  divorce  from  him. 

''Upon  what  grounds,  Madame?"  asks  the  coun- 
sellor, settling  down  to  business. 

"Grounds?"  is  the  startled,  hesitating  reply;  "Why 
- — I — that  is — I  am  so  unhappy  with  him." 

"Is  he  unfaithful  to  you?" 

*T  do  not  know.  I  hope  he  is — I  am  afraid  not,  how- 
ever.   I  thought  you  would  ascertain  for  me." 

"  Certainly,  Madame,  certainly.  Nothing  easier  in 
the  world.  We'll  find  out  all  about  him.  ^  We'll  learn 
the  innermost  secrets  of  his  heart,  and  I've  no  doubt 
we  shall  find  him  grossly  unfaithful.    Most  men  are." 

"Oh,  not  all,  sir,"  the  lady  cries,  a  litde  startled,  "I'm 
sure  that  " 

Good  sense  comes  to  her  aid,  and  she  pauses.  She 
must  not  tell  all,  even  to  her  "legal  adviser."  The 
counsellor  smiles ;  he  has  seen  such  cases  before.  It 
is  only  an  affair  of  exchanging  an  old  love  for  a  new. 

"Has  he  ever  maltreated  you — struck  you  ?"  he  asksc 

"Oh  no." 

"Never  attempted  any  violence  with  you?" 
"He  once  seized  a  paper  weight  on  the  library  tabic, 
Very  much  excited,  while  I  was  talking  with  him." 


284 


NEW  YORK. 


"Indeed!  He  tried  to  dash  your  brains  out  with  a 
paper  weight,  did  he?  That  is  very  important  evidence, 
Madame,  very  important." 

And  the  counsellor  jots  it  down  on  a  memorandum, 

"But,  sir,  I  did  not  say  that  he — 

"  Oh,  never  mind,  Madame.  Wives  are  too  ready  to 
forgive  their  husbands'  brutality.  The  fact  remains 
the  same,  however.  This  infamous  attempt  upon  your 
life  will  be  sufficient  evidence  with  the  Western  judge 
before  whom  the  case  will  be  tried.  I  congratulate 
you,  Madame,  upon  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  release 
from  such  a  monster." 

The  lady  is  delighted,  pays  the  retainer,  which  is  a 
handsome  one,  agrees  upon  the  amount  to  be  paid 
when  the  divorce  is  granted,  and  the  parties  separate^ 
mutually  pleased  with  each  other. 

The  counsellor  new  goes  to  work  in  earnest. 
Operations  are  carried  on  in  some  Western  State. 
Witnesses  are  provided  who  will  swear  to  ajiything 
they  are  paid  for;^  the  divorce  is  duly  obtained;  the  fee 
is  paid;  and  the  Madame  coolly  informs  her  husband 
that  they  are  no  longer  husband  and  wife. 

A  year  or  two  ago  the  New  York  papers  contained 
an  account  of  a  man  who  had  gotten  one  of  these 
patent  divorces  from  his  wife.  Not  caring  to  part 
from  her  just  then,  but  wishing  to  be  able  to  do  so 
when  he  pleased,  he  locked  the  papers  up  in  his  desk, 
and  said  nothing  to  her  about  the  matter,  and  for 
ten  years  she  lived  with  him  as  his  mistress,  in  total 
ignorance  of  her  true  relations  to  him.  At  last,  be- 
coming tired  of  her,  he  produced  the  decree  of  divorce^ 
and  left  her. 


COST  OF  A  PATENT  DIVORCE. 


285 


All  sorts  of  people  seek  the  assistance  of  the  divorce 
lawyers  to  free  them  from  their  matrimonial  ties.  Ex- 
travagant and  reckless  wives  of  men  who  are  not  able 
to  meet  their  demands  for  money;  dissolute  actresses, 
who  wish  to  break  up  an  old  alliance  in  order  to  form 
a  new  one;  married  women,  who  have  become  in- 
fatuated with  some  scamp  they  have  met  at  a  theatre 
matinee,  or  through  the  medium  of  a  personal ;  married 
men  who  are  tired  of  their  wives  and  desire  to  be 
united  to  a  new  partner;  lovers  of  married  women, 
who  come  to  engage  fabricated  testimony  and  surrep- 
titious divorce  for  the  frail  creatures  whose  virtue  is 
still  too  cowardly  to  dare  the  more  honest  sin ;  all  who, 
with  or  without  protest,  seek  a  release  from  the  mar- 
riage bond.  For  each  and  all  the  divorce  lawyer  has  a 
ready  ear  and  an  encouraging  word.  Nothing  is 
easier  than  to  obtain  a  divorce,  he  assures  them.  If 
the  cause  assigned  by  them  is  insufficient,  it  can  be 
made  strong  enough;  if  evidence  is  lacking,  it  can  be 
obtained — manufactured,  if  necessary.  He  receives 
a  retainer  from  each  and  all,  and  sends  jthem  away 
with  the  happy  consciousness  that  their  matrimonial 
troubles  will  soon  be  over. 

A  divorce  costs  anywhere  from  $25  to  whatever 
sum  the  applicant  is  willing  to  pay  for  it,  and  can  be 
obtained  in  New  York,  or  any  other  State,  according 
to  the  wishes  of  the  party  and  the  desire  to  avoid  pub- 
licity. Any  cause  may  be  assigned  ;  the  lawyer  guar- 
antees that  the  evidence  to  support  it  shall  be  forth- 
coming at  the  proper  time.  It  is  a  little  more  trouble- 
some to  obtain  a  New  York  divorce,  but  the  machinery 
of  the  law  is  sufficiently  loose  even  there  to  enable  a 


286 


NEW  YORK. 


well-managed  case  to  be  successful.  The  divorce 
lawyer  has  witnesses  upon  whom  he  can  depend,  for 
they  are  regularly  in  his  pay.  They  will  swear  as  they 
are  instructed.  The  proceedings  are  private,  the 
courts  turning  the  whole  matter  over  to  a  referee,  who 
is  frequently  in  collusion  with  the  lawyer  conducting 
the  case.  Not  a  word  about  the  affair  is  allowed  to 
get  into  the  newspapers.  The  defendant  has  been 
kept  in  ignorance  of  the  proceedings,  and  naturally 
does  not  appear  in  court,  in  person  or  by  counsel,  to 
offer  any  opposition,  and  the  case  goes  by  default. 
The  referee  hears  the  evidence,  which  has  been  care- 
fully prepared,  in  the  case  ;  submits  a  decision  in  favor 
of  the  plaintiff ;  the  court  confirms  the  decision ;  the 
divorce  is  granted,  and  the  first  thing  the  defendant 
knows  of  the  whole  affair  is  the  triumphant  proclama- 
tion of  the  decree  of  the  court,  and  the  announcement 
of  the  dissolution  of  the  marriage. 

Adultery  is  a  favorite  ground  with  the  divorce  law- 
yer, and,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  comparatively 
easy  to  fasten  such  a  charge  upon  the  defendant,  if  that 
person  happens  to  be  the  husband.  This  is  how  it  is 
done:  One  of  the  "agents"  of  the  firm  makes  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  husband,  who  is  in  total  ignorance 
of  the  plot  against  him,  and  after  becoming  somewhat 
familiar  with  him,  invites  him  to  a  quiet  little  supper  at 
some  convenient  restaurant.  When  the  wine  has  done 
its  work,  a  party  of  ladies  drop  in,  quite  by  accident, 
of  course,  and  are  pressed  by  the  agent  to  remain. 
The  innocent  victim  joins  in  the  request ;  he  would  be 
an  ill-bred  fellow  if  he  did  not.  A  dead  set  is  made  at 
the  victim,  whose  wits  are  genera-lly  somewhat  confused 


MANUFACTURING  EVIDENCE. 


287 


with  the  wino  he  has  drank,  and  the  natural  conse- 
quences follow.  The  agent  coolly  looks  on,  and  takes 
his  notes,  and  the  particular  beauty  who  has  won  over 
the  victim  to  her  charms  becomes  an  important  witness 
in  the  case.  There  is  no  difficulty  in  proving  the 
charge. 

Where  the  husband  is  a  jolly,  good-natured  man, 
and  loves  to  take  his  pleasure,  the  agent's  business  is 
greatly  simplified.  He  has  but  to  shadow  his  victim, 
note  down  his  acts,  even  his  words,  for  the  most  inno- 
cent deed  can  be  distorted  by  a  shrewd  divorce  lawyer 
into  damaging  evidence  of  guilt.  The  least  imprudence 
is  magnified  into  sin,  and  little  by  little  all  the  needed 
evidence  is  obtained. 

Sometimes  all  these  arts  fail.  Then  the  lawyer  has 
but  one  resource,  to  employ  paid  witnesses  to  swear 
to  the  husband's  guilt,  where  no  overt  act  has  been 
committed.  The  divorce  must  be  obtained  at  any  cost  ; 
and  the  lawyer  knows  "no  such  word  as  fail." 

Sometimes  business  becomes  dull.  People  appear 
to  be  satisfied  with  their  partners,  and  applications  for 
patenii  divorces  fall  off.  The  divorce  lawyer  is  equal 
to  the  emergency,  however,  and  sets  his  agents  to  work 
to  drum  up  business.  They  proceed  upon  a  regular 
system,  and  seek  high  game.  They  operate  among 
persons  able  to  pay  large  fees,  and  seek  women  as 
their  victims  in  preference  to  men.  A  member  of  the 
Metropolitan  bar,  conversing  with  a  friend  not  long 
since,  thus  explained  the  system  pursued  : — 

"You  understand,  of  course,  that  society  is  not 
happy  in  all  its  honors.  All  the  brownstone  houses 
have  to  have  new  closets  put  in  every  year  in  order  to 


288 


NEW  YORK. 


accommodate  the  skeletons.  Still,  many  a  woman  and 
man,  if  let  alone,  would  bear  his  or  her  connubial  bur- 
dens meekly,  rather  than  face  the  scandal  and  publicity 
of  a  divorce  trial.  Our  special  divorce  lawyers  know 
this,  and  so  they  invade  society.  They  transfer  the 
base  of  operations  to  the  drawing  rooms.  How  ?  By 
using  swell  members  of  the  fashionable  world  to  first 
find  out  where  there  is  a  canker  in  the  rose,  and  then  to 
deftly  set  forth  in  a  perfect  Mephistophilian  way  how 
divorce  is  the  only  cure.  Nine-tenths  of  this  delicate 
diplomatic  business  is  employed  in  persuading  hesita- 
ting wives.  Husbands  could  hardly  be  approached  in 
their  own  homes  with  a  proposition  to  break  them  up. 
Take  an  impressionable  woman,  already  unhappy,  who 
has  once  been  thinking  of  divorce,  and  the  case  is  differ- 
ent. She  is  clay  for  the  moulder.  The  serpent  whis- 
pers of  how  nice  it  will  be  to  bank  her  alimony,  tells 
her  lies  about  the  old  man,  induces  her  to  believe  that 
the  firm  down  town  will  put  in  no  bill  if  they  don't 
succeed,  and  so  the  affair  is  arranged." 

For  this  despicable  service  the  agent  receives  ten 
per  cent,  of  the  fee  paid  the  divorce  lawyer  by  the 
wife,  which  fee,  be  it  remembered,  comes  out  of  the 
husband's  pocket. 

Oftentimes  the  agent  is  called  upon  to  personate  the 
husband,  especially  in  serving  the  summons  of  the 
court  upon  him,  if  the  case  is  to  be  tried  in  New  York. 
The  lawyer  in  charge  has  the  case  quietly  put  on 
record  in  the  proper  court,  and  has  a  summons  pre- 
pared for  service  upon  the  defendant.  A  boy  is  called 
in  from  the  street,  anybody  will  answer,  and  is  paid  a 
iiifle  to  take  the  summons  to  the  defendant's  place  of 


THE  DIVORCE  RING. 


289 


business  or  residence,  and  deliver  it  to  him  in  person. 
Arrived  at  his  destination,  the  boy  is  met  by  the  agent 
of  the  divorce  lawyer,  at  the  door  or  on  the  steps. 
The  agent  sharply  demands  his  business,  and  is 
answered  by  the  boy  that  his  washes  to  deliver  a  paper 

to  Mr.  X  .    "I  am  Mr.  X  replies  the  agent, 

sharply,  "give  me  the  paper."    The  boy,  in  perfect 

good  faith,  for  he  has  never  seen  Mr.  X          in  his 

life,  delivers  the  summons  to  the  agent,  and  goes  back 
to  the  lawyer's  office,  where  he  signs  an  affidavit  that 
he  has  served  the  summons  upon  the  defendant  in 
person.  He  is  then  dismissed,  and  plays  no  further 
part  in  the  case.  His  affidavit  is  sufficient  for  this 
part  of  the  proceedings,  and  the  shameful  mockery  of 
justice  proceeds  to  another  stage. 

This  is  no  exaggerated  description.  The  acts  of 
these  divorce  lawyers  are  well  known  in  New  York, 
and  every  member  of  the  bar  is  familiar  with  their 
mode  of  proceeding.  Reputable  barristers  denounce 
them  as  a  disgrace,  not  only  to  the  profession,  but  to 
humanity.  The  judges  on  the  bench  know  these  men 
and  their  ways.  Yet  neither  the  bench  nor  the  Bar 
Association  make  any  effort  to  stop  the  evil  or  to  dis- 
bar the  wretches  who  thus  prey  upon  the  most  sacred 
relations  of  life.  The  "Divorce  Ring"  is  a  powerful 
clique,  intimately  connected  with  and  very  useful  to 
the  whole  referee  system,  and  lawyers  of  standing  are 
afraid  to  attempt  to  bring  it  to  justice,  lest  they  should 
draw  upon  themselves  the  vengeance  of  the  "Referee 
Ring,"  and  so  injure  their  own  professional  prospects.- 
So  the  evil  continues  to  grow.  It  will  flourish  as  long 
as  there  are  foolish  people  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

19 


290 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CHRISTMAS  IN  NEW  YORK. 

►reparations  ^OR  CHRISTMAS— HOLIDAY  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  CITY— STREET  SCENES — BUSINESS 

BOOMING  SCENES  IN  THE  CITY  BY  NIGHT  A  NOVEL   SIGHT  ON  THE    ELEVATED  RAILROAD 

TRAINS  BUSY  TIMES  IN  THE  MARKETS  THE  TURKEYS — TRINITY  CHIMES  MLDNIGHT  SER- 

VICES — CHRISTMAS  DAY — HOW  IT  IS  OBSERVED  IN  NEW  YORK — CHRISTMAS  WITH  THE  POOR. 

New  York  attests  its  Dutch  and  English  descent  by 
the  heartiness  with  which  it  "  keeps  Christmas."  For 
weeks  before  the  great  day  of  the  Feast  the  city  is  in 
gala  attire.  The  stores  present  a  brighter  and  more 
attractive  appearance  than  at  any  other  season  of  the 
year,  the  streets  are  filled  with  larger  throngs,  and  the 
stages,  street  cars,  and  trains  of  the  Elevated  roads  are 
more  crowded  than  ever.  Every  family  in  the  great 
Babel  is  looking  iorward  with  eagerness  to  the  period 
when  happiness  shall  rule  the  hour,  and  dull  care  be 
banished  from  the  household.  The  little  folks  are  in 
their  glory,  for  it  is  their  season,  par  excellence.  They 
look  forward  eagerly  to  the  "day  of  days;"  wonder 
what  presents  the  good  Saint  Nicholas — for  by  what- 
ever other  name  the  tutelary  saint  of  Christmas  be 
called  elsewhere,  this  is  his  true  title  in  the  Aletropolis 
— will  bring  them ;  and  scan  with  longing  eyes  the 
impenetrable  wrappers  of  the  parcels  that  daily  find  > 
their  way  to  their  homes,  and  are  put  with  haste  under 
lock  and  key.  As  the  festival  draws  nearer,  the  bustle 
and  excitement  increase  throughout  the  city,  and  when 
Christmas  Eve  is  reached  New  York  is  fairly  crazed 
with  enthusiasm. 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  CHRISTMAS. 


291 


The  city  presents  an  interesting  appearance  on  the 
day  before  Christmas.  The  air  is  keen  and  crisp,  and 
if  the  streets  and  the  house  tops  arc  covered  with  a 
mantle  of  snow,  so  much  the  better,  for  to  the  lover  of 
Christmas  the  season  should  always  be  a  snowy  one. 
The  streets  and  stores  are  now  packed  to  their  utmost 
capacity.  It  is  the  money  spending  time  of  the  year, 
and  those  who  are  out  mean  business.  No  matter  if 
the  weather  is  cold,  and  the  thoroughfares  are  slushy, 
no  matter  if  the  wind  whirls  in  fitful  gusts  along  the 
streets,  chilling  the  hands  and  noses  of  the  pas^sers 
by.  Warm  hearts  beat  under  the  warm  clothing  of  the 
holiday  makers.  Broadway,  from  Bleecker  street  to 
Thirty-fourth,  Sixth,  Eighth,  and  Third  avenues  almost 
along  their  entire  length,  23d,  14th,  and  Grand  streets, 
and  the  Bowery  are  all  driving  a  thriving  trade.  The 
display  in  the  stores  is  something  wonderful,  and  the 
proprietors  are  in  high  good  humor  at  the  rapid  disap- 
pearance- of  their  wares.  The  streets  are  filled  with 
booths  and  stands  at  which  a  busy  trade  is  going  on. 
Articles  which  find  no  sale  at  other  seasons  of  the  year 
are  now  disposed  of  rapidly  and  at  satisfactoiy  prices. 
Men  and  women  jostle  each  other  on  the  sidewalks,  and 
it  is  difficult  in  some  places  to  force  one's  way  through 
the  throng.  Huge  piles  of  Christmas  trees  stand  on 
the  corners,  and  find  ready  purchasers,  and  wagons 
.  loaded  with  trees  and  evergreen  decorations,  wreaths, 
stars,  festoons,  and  the  like,  pass  along  the  up-town 
streets,  disposing  of  their  wares  from  house  to  house. 
Thousands  of  dollars  change  hands  every  minute. 
The  clerks  in  the  stores  are  as  busy  as  bees,  and  extra 
help  has  to  be  engaged.    It  is  marvelous  to  see  how 


292 


NEW  YORK. 


rapidly  and  with  what  promptness  purchases  are  deliv- 
ered at  the  houses  of  the  buyers.  Many,  however,  do 
not  trust  to  these  deliveries,  but  take  their  purchases 
with  them,  and  all  day  the  streets  are  filled  with  men 
and  women  literally  loaded  down  with  parcels. 

At  night  Broadway,  14th  street  and  Fifth  avenue 
are  ablaze  with  the  electric  light.  The  stores  are  all 
open  and  thronged  with  buyers.  The  crowds  in  the 
streets  are  even  greater,  for  those  who  were  at  work 
during  the  day  are  now  out,  busy  with  their  purchases. 
Men,  women  and  children,  loaded  with  merchandise, 
struggle .  along  the  packed  sidewalks,  and  the  roar  of 
passing  vehicles  is  as  great  as  at  any  hour  of  the  day. 
Here  is  a  woman  with  a  bundle  of  toys  in  her  arms, 
surmounted  by  a  huge  turkey  for  the  Christmas  din- 
ner. There  goes  a  man  struggling  under  the  weight 
of  a  Christmas  tree,  and  sweeping  his  way  through  the 
mass  with  its  thick,  sharp  branches.  Boys  with  penny 
whistles,  young  men  with  tin  horns,  render  the  streets 
discordant  with  their  noise ;  half-dressed  children  of 
both  sexes  stand  on  the  sidewalks  watching  the  throng, 
or  gaze  into  the  brightly-lighted  shop-windows  with 
wistful  eyes,  and  wonder  what  Christmas  has  in  store 
for  them.  They  will  not  be  forgotten  on  the  morrow. 
New  York  opens  its  great  heart  and  its  big  pocket- 
book  at  this  blessed  time,  and  to-morrow  huge  tables 
will  groan  with  good  things,  and  tall  Christmas  trees 
stagger  under  the  weight  of  toys  and  trinkets,  for  the 
children  of  the  poor.  Lights  gleam  from  every  house 
in  the  great  city,  and  could  you  enter,  you  would  find 
in  each  and  all  nearly  the  same  scene  going  on — the 
elder  members  of  the  family  dressing  the  Christmas 


CHRISTMAS  EVE. 


293 


tree,  and  loading  it  with  the  toys  and  trinkets  that  are 
to  gladden  the  eyes  of  the  young  folks  when  they  wake 
on  the  morrow,  and  decorating  the  rooms  with  wreaths 
and  festoons  of  green,  amid  which  the  bright  holly  ber- 
ries shine  out  in  their  crimson  beauty.  Something  of 
this  may  be  seen  from  the  cars  of  the  Elevated  roads, 
as  you  whirl  by  the  second-story  windows  of  the  houses 
along  the  route. 

These  Elevated  trains  present  a  curious  spectacle 
on  Christmas  Eve.  At  every  station  there  are  long 
lines  of  people  going  up  and  down  the  narrow  stair- 
ways, laden  with  all  manner  of  Christmas  treasures. 
The  stations  themselves  have  the  appearance  of  booths 
where  toys  of  all  kinds  are  disposed  for  sale.  In  the 
cars  it  is  almost  impossible  to  move,  because  of  the 
great  bundles  of  merchandise.  You  stumble  over 
huge  turkeys  and  market-baskets  filled  to  overflowing 
with  all  manner  of  eatables,  and  at  every  step  are 
warned  by  some  anxious  passenger  to  be  careful  not 
to  step  on  his  bundles.  Throughout  the  day,  and  late 
into  the  night,  each  passing  train  presents  the  appear- 
ance of  being  a  combination  of  a  toy  store  and  a  Wash- 
ington Market  stall. 

As  for  the  markets,  they  seem  the  very  incarnation 
of  Christmas.  They  are  thronged  to  overflowing,  and 
the  dealers  can  scarcely  supply  the  demand  upon  them. 
The  scene,  especially  at  night,  almost  baffles  descrip- 
tion. Long  rows  of  turkeys  hang  from  the  hooks  of 
the  stalls,  and  are  arranged  on  counters  and  stands 
which  usually  groan  beneath  the  weight  of  butchers' 
meats  and  sugar-cured  hams.  Wreaths  and  festoons 
of  evergreens,  mingled  with  holly-berries,  decorate 


294 


NEW  YORK. 


every  stall,  and  the  great  sheds  are  aglow  with  hun- 
dreds of  lamps  of  every  description.  Moving  in  all 
directions  are  people  with  huge  market-baskets,  filled 
with  every  luxury  which  can  tempt  the  appetite,  and 
the  vast,  surging,  eager  crowd  acts  as  though  there 
was  but  one  hour  in  which  to  buy  all  that  is  necessary 
for  the  crowning  festival  of  the  year.  Towards  eleven 
o'clock  business  begins  to  slacken,  the  crowds  of  pur- 
chasers fall  off,  and  soon  the  stalls  are  closed,  the  lights 
go  out,  and  the  dealers  prepare  to  go  home.  The  city 
becomes  quieter,  and  by  midnight  the  Christmas  pur- 
chases are  over,  and  New  York  prepares  for  a  little 
rest.    Yet  not  long  does  the-  silence  continue. 

When  the  bell  of  old  Trinity  tolls  the  last  stroke  of 
the  hour  of  midnight,  there  is  a  momentary  hush  in  the 
streets,  and  then  rolling  down  from  their  lofty  height, 
through  the  dark  thoroughfares  and  over  the  silent 
waters  of  the  bay,  come  the  rich,  glad  tones  of  the 
chimes,  filling  the  air  with  a  burst  of  melody.  "  Christ- 
mas has  come,"  they  seem  to  say.  "Awake  and  re- 
joice, ye  dwellers  in  the  great  city.  Banish  your  cares 
and  lift  up  your  hearts.  For  one  day  let  sin  and  sor- 
row cease.  'Glad  tidings  of  great  joy'  await  you. 
Christmas  has  come:  Christ  is  born."  Lights  gleam 
in  the  grand  old  church  below,  and  soon  the  full,  rich 
tones  of  the  organ  and  the  sweet  voices  of  the  choris- 
ters swell  out  on  the  midnight  air. 

Midnight  services  are  held  in  many  of  the  Episcopal 
and  all  of  the  Catholic  churches  of  the  city,  and  are 
-well  attended. 

On  Christmas  day  the  city  is  full  of  gayety,  its  ob- 
servance being  very  much  the  san^e  as  in  other  places. 


CHRISTMAS  DINNERS. 


295 


Morning  services  are  held  at  the  churches  of  many  of 
the  denominations,  and  large  congregations  are  in 
attendance.  In  the  afternoon  the  Sunday  schools 
generally  distribute  presents  to  their  attendants,  from 
huge  Christmas  trees. 

The  Christmas  dinner  is  the  great  event  of  the  day, 
and  at  such  repasts  the  turkey  always  occupies  the 
post  of  honor.  Nor  are  these  feasts  confined  to  the 
family  board  alone.  The  numerous  charitable  and 
benevolent  institutions  spread  bountiful  tables  for  their 
inmates.  The  children  of  the  poor,  washed  clean  and 
neatly  dressed,  are  gathered  in  from  all  quarters,  at 
certain  establishments,  and  are  given  the  only  hearty 
and  enjoyable  meal  of  the  year.  At  many  of  these 
places  Christmas  trees  are  provided,  and  the  hearts  of 
the  little  ones  are  gladdened  with  toys,  trinkets,  and 
other  presents  suited  to  their  needs  and  years.  Even 
the  prisoners  in  the  Tombs  and  on  Blackwell's  Island 
are  not  forgotten,  and  the  Christmas  dinner  spread  for 
them  sheds  a  little  of  light  and  hope  into  their  other^ 
wise  gloomy  existence.  The  charitable  institutions  are 
busy  receiving  and  distributing  clothing,  food  and  other 
articles  sent  to  them.  New  York  gives  bountifully  at 
this  season ;  even  those  whose  pocket-books  are  tightly 
clasped  at  other  times,  open  them  now,  and  distribute 
their  bounty  with  generous  hands. 

All  the  theatres  give  special  performances,  termed 
"  Matinees,"  in  the  afternoon.  The  houses  are  thronged^ 
and  the  managers  pocket  large  receipts.  At  night, 
balls,  festivals  and  entertainments  of  all  kinds,  close 
the  day. 


296 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

» 

PUBLIC  BUILDINGS. 

TH«  cm  HALL— THE  GOVERNOR'S  ROOM— THE  COUNTY  COURT  HOUSB— REMINISCKNCRS  OF  THrf 
"tweed  ring" — THE  HALL  OF  RECORDS — THE  UNITED  STATES  SUB-TREASURY — THE  GREAT 
VAULTS — HOW  UNCLE  SAm's  MONEY  IS  GUARDED — THE  ASSAY  OFFICE — THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE — 
A  NOBLE  EDIFICE — THE  BUSINESS  OF  THE  PORT  OF  NEW  YORK — DUTIES  OF  OFFICIALS — TMB 
BARGE  OFFICE — PASSING  THROUGH  THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE — CUSTOM  HOUSE  BROKERS — TAM- 
MANY HALL — THE  TAMMANY  SOCIETY — POLITICAL  ORGANIZATION — "BOSS  KELLY  " — THB 
COOPER  UNION — WORK  OF  THE  INSTITUTI9N — THE  BIBLE  HOUSE — A  GREAT  WORK  DONE — THB 
NATIONAL  ACADEMY  OF  DESIGN — HOW  THE  SCHOOLS  ARE  CONDUCTED  ANNUAL  EXHIBI- 
TIONS— THE   YOUNG   MEN's   CHRISTIAN    ASSOCIATION    BUILDING  THE  rf,ECTURB    ROOM — A 

itEFUGE  FOR  YOUNG  MEN — THE  GRAND  CENTRAL  RAILROAD  DEPOT — INTERNAL  ARRANOB- 
MBNTS — THE  CAR  HOUSE — THE  FOURTH  AVENUE  TUNNELS. 

Apart  from  the  great  public  edifices  mentioned 
separately  in  these  pages,  there  are  many  which  de- 
serve special  notice.  Of  the  principal  of  these  we 
propose  to  speak  in  this  chapter. 

The  most  prominent  of  the  public  buildings  is  the 
G'^  I/a//y  the  headquarters  of  the  Municipal  Govern- 
ment of  New  York.  It  stands  in  the  City  Hall  Park, 
in  the  rear  of  the  Post  Office,  from  which  it  is  sepa- 
rated by  a  wide,  open  space,  and  between  that 
building  and  the  County  Court  House.  The  front 
and  sides  are  of  white  marble,  and  the  rear  of  brown 
sandstone.  It  is  built  in  the  Italian  style,  and  was 
begun  in  1803  and  completed  in  181 2,  at  a  cost  of 
more  than  half  a  million  of  dollars.  It  is  216  feet 
long  and  105  feet  deep,  and  is  surmounted  by  a  cupola 
containing  a  clock  with  four  faces,  which  are  illuminated 
by  gas  at  night.  On  the  summit  of  the  cupola  stands 
a  statue  of  Justice.  The  building  contains  the  Mayor's 
office,  the  Common  Council  Chamber,  the  City  Library, 


THE  COUNTY  COURT  HOUSE. 


297 


and  a  number  of  the  City  offices.  Some  of  its  rooms 
are  handsome,  and  are  elegantly  decorated.  The 
principal  chamber  is  called  ''The  Governor's  Room," 
and  is  used  chiefly  for  official  receptions.  It  is  located 
on  the  second  floor,  and  contains  the  portraits  of  a 
number  of  the  Governors  of  New  York,  Mayors  of 
the  City,  prominent  officers  of  the  army  of  the  Revo- 
lution, and  many  other  distinguished  persons.  These 
portraits  are  nearly  all  by  celebrated  artists.  Here 
also  are  the  chairs  used  by  the  First  Congress  of  the 
United  States,  the  chair  in  which  Washington  sat  at 
his  first  inauguration  as  President  of  the  Republic,  and 
that  in  which  he  penned  his  first  message  to  Congress. 

The  County  Court  House  stands  in  the  rear  of  the 
City  Hall,  and  fronts  on  Chambers  street.  It  was 
begun  in  1861,  and  since  1867  has  been  occupied  by 
the  State  Courts  and  several  of  the  City  Departments, 
though  still  uncompleted.  When  finished  it  will  be 
one  of  the  finest  edifices  in  the  Union.  It  is  built  in 
the  Corinthian  style  of  architecture,  is  three  stories 
high,  250  feet  long  by  150  wide,  and  is  constructed  of 
white  marble  from  Massachusetts.  The  dome,,  when 
completed,  will  be  210  feet  above  the  sidewalk.  "One 
of  the  most  novel  features  of  the  dome  will  be  the 
arrangement  of  the  tower  crowning  its  apex,  into  a 
lighthouse,  which,  from  its  extreme  power  and  height, 
it  is  supposed,  will  furnish  guidance  to  vessels  as  far 
out  at  sea  as  that  afforded  by  any  beacon  on  the 
neighboring  coast."  The  building  has  already  cost 
many  millions  of  dollars.  It  was  the  chief  means  used 
by  the  Tweed  Ring  in  carrying  out  their  stupendous 
frauds  upon  the  city.    The  better  part  of  the  money 


298  NEW  YORK. 

appropriated  for  its  construction  went  into  the  pockets 
of  the  Ring. 

At  the  northeast  corner  of  the  City  Hall  Park,  and  a 
few  yards  from  the  City  Hall,  stands  a  stone  building- 
covered  with  stucco.  It  was  erected  in  1757,  as  a  city 
prison.  It  is  known  as  the  Hall  of  Records,  and  is 
occupied  by  the  Registrar  and  his  clerks. 

The  United  States  Sub-Treasury  stands  at  the  north- 
east corner  of  Wall  and  Nassau  streets,  and  on  the 
site  of  old  Federal  Hall,  in  which  Washington  was 
inaugurated  first  President  of  the  United  States.  It 
faces  Broad  street,  and  extends  back  to  Pine  street.  It 
is  built  of  white  marble,  in  the  Doric  style  of  architec- 
ture, and  its  fronts  on  Wall  and  Pine  streets  are  adorned 
with  noble  porticoes,  each  supported  by  eight  marble 
columns  32  feet  high.  The  Wall  street  portico  is 
approached  by  a  massive  flight  of  eighteen  marble  steps, 
extending  the  entire  width  of  the  building.  As  the 
grade  on  Pine  street  is  higher  than  that  of  Wall  street, 
the  portico  on  that  side  is  without  steps.  The  main 
entrances  lead  into  a  rotunda  sixt}^feet  in  diameter.  The 
dome  is  very  handsome,  and  is  supported  by  sixteen 
Corinthian  columns.  The  desks  of  the  officials  in  charge 
of  the  various  departments  of  the  Sub-Treasury  are 
arranged  around  the  sides  of  the  rotunda,  and  are  sepa- 
rated from  the  public  portion  by  a  handsome  counter 
provided  Avith  a  glass  screen  similar  to  those  used  in 
banks.  The  rotunda  always  presents  a  busy  scene,  as 
the  business  of  the  Sub-Treasur>^ is  very  great.  Beneath 
the  rotunda  is  an  extensive  basement  arranged  in  a 
series  of  vaults,  in  which  are  kept  the  coins,  notes  and 
bonds  belonging  to  the  general  government.  The 


GUARDING  THE  TREASURY  VAULTS. 


299 


amount  on  deposit  here  is  always  enormous,  and  every 
precaution  is  taken  to  ensure  its  safety.  During  the 
past  year  the  vaults  have  been  considerably  enlarged, 
to  accommodate  the  vast  amount  of  bullion  sent  here 
for  storage,  and  the  great  bags  of  coined  money,  and 


UNITED  STATES  SUB-TREASURY. 


new  doors  have  been  provided,  with  an  intricate  net- 
work of  horizontal  and  perpendicular  bars,  operated  by 
time  locks  of  the  most  ingenious  construction. 

There  have  been  many  occasions  when  alarm  has 
been  felt  lest  an  attack  might  be  attempted  upon  the 


300 


NEW  YORK. 


building  by  a  mob.  This  apprehension  is  now  over- 
come by  the  practical  conversion  of  the  building  into 
a  formidable  fortress.  Every  window  has  been  provi- 
ded with  heavy  steel  shutters,  and  these  have  been  so 
perforated  as  to  admit  of  very  accurate  firing  by  the 
defenders  within,  in  case  the  building  should  be  attacked 
by  a  body  of  rioters.  Upon  the  roof  strong  steel  tur- 
rets have  been  erected,  fitted  with  loopholes  for  rifle 
firing,  and  larger  ones  for  the  destructive  work  of  im- 
proved Gatling  guns.  There  are  four  of  these  combi- 
nation guns,  so  mounted  as  to  sweep  the  neighboring 
housetops,  or  by  being  depressed  scatter  their  score  of 
bullets  into  the  street.  Above  the  apertures  for  the 
Catlings  are  loopholes  for  riflemen,  by  which  every 
angle  of  approach  can  be  readily  covered.  The  great- 
est secrecy  is  maintained  respecting  these  means  of 
defense,  and  no  stranger  is  allowed  to  inspect  them. 
Neither  are  visitors  permitted  to  see  the  great  vaults 
in  the  basement. 

The  Sub-Treasury  was  originally  built  for  and  used 
by  the  Custom  House,  but  becoming  too  small  for  its 
purposes  was  remodeled  for  its  present  use. 

Adjoining  the  Treasury  is  the  Assay  Office,  which  is 
practically  a  department  of  the  Sub-Treasury.  It  is  a 
much  smaller  edifice,  and  is  constructed  of  granite. 

The  Custom  House  occupies  an  irregular  square 
bounded  by  Wall  street.  Exchange  Place,  William 
street,  and  Hanover  street.  The  Wall  street  front  is 
144  feet  long,  and  the  Exchange  Place  front,  171  feet 
long.  The  depth  of  the  building  is  200  feet.  The 
height  of  the  building  is  77  feet,  and  from  the  ground 
to  the  top  of  the  central  dome,  the  distance  is  1 24  feet. 


THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE. 


301 


The  Wall  street  front  is  ornamented  with  a  handsome 
portico  supported  by  twelve  front,  four  middle  and  two 
rear  columns  of  granite,  each  thirty-eight  feet  in  height. 
The  building  is  constructed  of  Quincy  granite,  and  was 


CUSTOM  HOUSE. 


erected  in  1835,  at  a  cost,  including  the  ground,  of 
$1,800,000.  It  was  used  for  a  number  of  years  as  the 
Merchants'  Exchange.  It  was  subsequently  sold  to 
the  United  States  Government  for  ^1,000,000,  and  was 


302 


NEW  YORK. 


converted  to  its  present  use.  The  mam  entrance  is  oit 
Wall  street,  but  there  are  entrances  on  every  side  of 
the  building. 

The  Wall  street  entrance  leads  directly  to  the  ro-  • 
tunda,  the  main  hall  of  the  building,  lying  immediately 
beneath  the  dome.  Around  the  sides  of  this  beautiful 
hall  are  eight  lofty  columns  of  Italian  marble,  the 
superb  Corinthian  columns  of  which  were  carved  in 
Italy.  They  support  the  base  of  the  dome,  and  are 
probably  the  largest  and  noblest  marble  columns  in 
the  United  States.  The  immense  building  is  divided 
into  offices,  which  are  used  by  the  Collector  of  the 
Port,  the  Naval  Officer,  and  the  Surveyor  of  the  Port, 
and  their  subordinates.  The  other  departments  of 
the  Custom  House  are  in  different  parts  of  the  city. 
The  Sample  Offices  are  at  254  West  street;  the  Ap- 
praiser's Stores  at  486  Washington  street;  the  Barge 
Office  at  6  State  street;  and  the  Public  Stores  at  the 
corner  of  Washington  and  Laight  street.  Large  as  it 
is,  the  Custom  House  building  is  too  small  for  the 
business  transacted  within  it,  and  the  erection  of  a 
new  Custom  House  has  been  strongly  urged  upon  the 
Government. 

The  business  of  the  port  of  New  York  is  immense. 
Five-sixths  of  all  the  duties  collected  on  imports  in  the 
United  States  are  received  here.  The  Collectorship 
of  the  Port  is  perhaps  the  best  paying  office  within  the 
gift  of  the  National  Government,  and  is  eagerly  sought  ^ 
after  by  politicians.  The  Collector  is  also  possessed 
of  great  political  influence  and  power,  by  reason  of  his 
being  the  chief  of  the  vast  army  of  employees  of 
every  description  engaged  in  doing  Government  work 


CUSTOM  HOUSE  INSPECTION. 


4 


304  .  NEW  YORK. 

in  the  city.  In  the  Custom  House  proper  there  are 
about  1 1 50  clerks,  whose  aggregate  salaries  amount  to 
about  $3,000,000  per  annum. 

The  duties  of  the  principal  officers  of  the  port  are 
thus  stated  by  Colonel  T.  B.  Thorpe,  a  veteran  em- 
ployee in  the  Custom  House  : — 

"The  Collector  shall  receive  all  reports,  manifests, 
and  documents  to  be  made  or  exhibited  on  the  entry 
of  any  ship  or  vessel ;  shall  record,  on  books  to  be 
kept  for  that  purpose,  all  manifests  ;  shall  receive  the 
entries  of  all  ships  or  vessels,  and  of  the  goods,  wares 
and  merchandise  imported  in  them ;  shall  estimate  the 
amount  of  the  duties  payable  thereupon,  indorsing 
said  amount  on  the  respective  entries;  shall  receive 
all  moneys  paid  for  duties,  and  take  all  bonds  for  se- 
curing the  payment  thereof ;  shall,  with  the  approba- 
tion of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  employ  proper 
personages,  weighers,  gangers,  measurers  and  inspec- 
tors, at  the  port  within  his  district. 

"  The  Naval  Officer  shall  receive  copies  of  all  mani- 
fests and  entries  on  all  goods,  wares  and  merchandise 
subject  to  duty  (and  no  duties  shall  be  received  with  - 
out such  estimate),  and  shall  keep  a  separate  record 
thereof ;  and  shall  countersign  all  permits,  clearances, 
certificates,  debentures,  and  other  documents  granted 
by  the  Collector.  He  shall  also  examine  the  Collec- 
tor's abstract  of  duties,  his  accounts,  receipts,  bonds 
and  expenditures,  and,  if  found  correct,  shall  certify 
to  the  same. 

"The  Surveyor  shall  superintend  and  direct  all 
inspectors,  weighers,  measurers,  and  gangers ;  shall 
visit  and  inspect  the  ships  and  vessels;  shall  return  in 
writing  every  morning,  to  the  Collector,  the  name  and 


INSPECTORS  BOARDING  A  VESSEL. 


305 


nationality  of  all  vessels  which  shall  have  arrived  from 
foreign  ports ;  shall  examine  all  goods,  wares  and  mer- 
chandise imported,  to  see  that  they  agree  with  the  In- 
spector's returns;  and  shall  see  that  all  goods  intended 
for  exportation  correspond  with  the  entries  and  per- 
mits granted  therefor;  and  the  said  Surveyor  shall,  in 
all  cases,  be  subject  to  the  Collector. 

"The  Appraiser  s  department  is  simply  for  the  pur- 
pose of  deciding  the  market  value  and  dutiable  char- 
acter of  all  goods  imported,  so  that  the  imposts  can  be 
laid  with  correctness.  Other  than  this,  it  has  no  con- 
nection with  the  Custom  House." 

The  Barge  office  is  located  at  the  Battery,  and  is  a 
handsome  granite  edifice.  It  is  described  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Battery  Park,  in  another  chapter.  It  is< 
the  headquarters  of  the  Inspectors  connected  with  the 
Surveyor's  office.  When  the  arrival  of  a  steamer  o! 
vessel  from  a  foreign  port  is  announced  by  the  tele- 
graph operator  at  Sandy  Hook,  several  Inspectors  are 
sent  down  in  a  revenue  tug  to  take  charge  of  her. 
As  soon  as  they  go  on  board  the  vessel  they  have 
absolute  control  of  her  passengers  and  cargo.  Should, 
the  vessel  be  a  steamer  from  abroad,  they  accompany' 
her  to  her  anchorage  in  the  river,  examine  the  baggagci 
of  the  passengers,  and  take  charge  of  all  containing 
dutiable  articles;  see  that  the  proper  duties  are  levied 
and  collected,  and  if  the  amount  of  the  duties  exceeds 
a  certain  sum,  send  the  trunks  or  parcels  to  the  public 
store  for  appraisement.  They  remain  on  the  vessel 
until  she  reaches  her  landing,  and  then  turn  her  over 
to  the  Custom  House  officials  appointed  to  supervise 
the  discharge  of  her  cargo. 

20 


306 


NEW  YORK. 


The  formalities  of  passing  goods  through  the  Cus- 
tom House  are  tedious  and  vexatious.  Merchants  and 
others  in  the  city  having  such  matters  on  their  hands 
employ  a  "Custom  House  Broker,"  who,  however,  has 
no  official  connection  with  the  Custom  House,  to  attend 
to  the  details  for  them.  The  broker  is  familiar  with 
all  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  great  establishment,  pos- 
sesses peculiar  facilities  for  the  prompt  despatch  of  his 
work,  and  is  not  subject  to  the  delays  and  annoyances 
which  await  a  private  individual.  His  fee  for  passing 
an  entry  is  five  dollars,  and  on  busy  days  he  frequently 
earns  several  hundred  dollars  in  this  way. 

The  portion  of  the  Custom  House  building  most 
familiar  to  the  general  public  is  the  rotunda.  In  the 
centre  of  this  hall  are  the  enclosed  desks  of  the  officials 
whose  duties  bring  them  in  constant  contact  with  mer- 
chants, shippers,  captains  of  vessels,  and  all  who  have 
business  with  the  establishment.  They  consist  of  four 
Deputy  Collectors,"  three  "Chief  Clerks,"  five  '  Entry 
Clerks,"  two  "Bond  Clerks,"  and  a  "Foreign-Clearance 
Clerk,"  and  his  assistant. 

Tammany  Hall  stands  on  the  North  side  of  East 
Fourteenth  street,  between  Irving  place  and  Third 
avenue,  and  adjoins  the  Academy  of  Music.  It  is  a 
large,  plain  structure  of  red  brick  with  white  marble 
trimmings,  and  possesses  no  architectural  attractions. 
It  is  the  property  of  the  Tammany  Society,  a  political 
organization,  and  the  controlling  element  of  the 
Democratic  party  in  municipal  affairs.  It  contains 
a  fine  hall  on  the  second  floor,  used  for  public  meet- 
ings, and  formerly  occupied  as  a  theatre,  and  several 
other  smaller  halls,  and  a  number  of  committee  rooms. 


THE  TAMMANY  SOCIETY. 


307 


One  of  the  smaller  halls,  opening  on  Fourteenth  street, 
on  the  ground  floor,  is  used  as  a  German  variety 
theatre. 

The  "Tammany  Society,  or  Columbian  Order,"  was 
incorporated  in  1789  as  a  benevolent  institution,  but  at 
an  early  day  degenerated  into  a  political  organization, 


and  gave  the  name  of  its  building  to  the  ruling  sec- 
tion of  the  Democratic  party.  The  organization  of 
the  Society  is  still  maintained  distinct  from  the  po- 
litical party,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  scarcely  any  one 
but  a  member  of  the  Tammany  General  Committee  is 
elected  a  member  of  the  Society.  The  members  are 
divided   into  two  classes,  known  as  "Braves"  and 


308 


NEW  YORK. 


"Sachems."  New  members  are  admitted  from  time 
to  time,  and  the  Society  is  self-perpetuating.  The 
Sachems  constitute  the  governing  class,  and  are  the 
trustees  of  the  property  of  the  Society.  The  chief 
officer  is  called  the  "Grand  Sachem,"  and  his  subordi- 
nates are  designated  by  Indian  titles.  As  a  political 
organization,  "Tammany  Hall"  is  said  to  be  the  best 
disciplined  body  in  the  Union.  It  is  governed  by 
a  Central  Committee  of  over  iioo  members,  under 
which  are  City  Committees  in  every  ward  of  the  Me- 
tropolis. In  municipal  politics  it  is  all-powerful,  and 
controls  fully  one-half  of  the  lawful  votes  of  the  city. 
In  its  practical  workings  "Tammany  Hall"  is  ruled  by 
one  man,  who  is  naturally  the  shrewdest  and  most 
energetic  of  its  leaders.  He  is  popularly  termed  "The 
Boss.'*  In  the  days  of  his  glory,  this  position  was  held 
by  "Boss  Tweed."  At  present,  Mr.  John  Kelly  is  re- 
garded as  "The  Boss"  of  Tammany. 

The  Cooper  Union  occupies  the  triangular  space 
formed  by  the  junction  of  the  Bowery,  Third  and 
Fourth  avenues  and  7th  street,  one  square  east  of 
Broadway.  It  is  a  plain  but  massive  and  imposing 
edifice  of  brownstone,  six  stories  high,  with  a  large 
basement  below  the  level  of  the  streets.  It  was  erect- 
ed by  Peter  Cooper  in  1857,  at  a  cost  of  ^630,000,  and 
was  endowed  by  him  with  ^150,000,  for  the  support  of 
the  free  reading  room  and  library.  The  street  floor  is 
let  out  in  stores,  and  the  floor  above  is  occupied  with 
offices  of  various  kinds.  These  floors  and  the  great 
hall  in  the  basement  yield  a  handsome  revenue,  which 
is  devoted  to  paying  a  part  of  the  expenses  of  the 
institution.    The  remainder  of  the  building  is  devoted 


COOPER  UNION. 


309 


to  a  free  library  and  reading  room,  and  halls  for  lectures 
and  for  study. 

The  institution  was  designed  by  Mr.  Cooper  for  the 
free  instruction  of  the  working  classes  in  science,  art, 
English  literature,  the  foreign  languages,  and  telegraphy. 
Of  late  years  there  has  been  added  to  it  a  school  of 


COOPER  vsins. 


design  for  women.  The  course  of  instruction  is  very 
thorough,  the  ablest  teachers  being  employed,  and  the 
standard  of  scholarship  is  high.  Searching  and  rigid 
examinations  test  the  proficiency  of  the  pupils,  and  the 
graduates  are  sent  forth  into  the  world  thoroughly 
prepared  in  the  branches  taught  here.  Mr.  Cooper's 
plans  have  been  ably  carried  out  by  the  teachers  in 


310 


NEW  YORK. 


charge  of  the  institution,  and  he  has  Jived  to  see  his 
noble  work  one  of  the  crowning  glories  of  the  Metropo- 
lis. The  library  contains  about  15,000  volumes  of 
miscellaneous  works,  and  the  reading  room  nearly  300 
daily  and  weekly  papers  and  magazines,  both  domestic 
and  foreign.  During  the  winter  months  free  lectures 
are  delivered  in  the  hall  in  the  basement,  on  popular 
and  instructive  subjects,  to  crowded  audiences.  The 
annual  cost  of  maintaining  the  institution  is  about 
$45,000*  It  is  derived  principally  from  the  rental  of  the 
stores  and  offices,  and  the  interest  on  the  endowment 
fund. 

The  Bible  House  stands  immediately  facing  the 
Cooper  Union,  and  occupies  the  entire  block  bounded 
by  Third  and  Fourth  avenues  and  8th  and  9th  streets. 
It  is  a  massive  structure  of  red  brick,  covers  an  area 
of  three-quarters  of  an  acre,  and  is  six  stories  in  height. 
It  was  erected  in  1852  and  1853,  ^  <^ost  of  $303,000, 
but  is  to-day  worth  more  than  twice  that  sum.  It  is 
the  property  of  the  American  Bible  Society,  and  besides 
the  portion  occupied  by  that  organization,  contains  fifty 
stores  and  offices,  which  return  a  rental  of  more  than 
$40,000.  Many  of  the  stores  on  the  ground  floor  are 
occupied  by  dealers  in  religious  books,  and  the  offices 
are  mainly  taken  up  by  benevolent  and  charitable  so- 
cieties. The  greater  portion  of  the  building  is  occu- 
pied by  the  offices,  the  printing  establishment,  and  the 
bindery  of  the  American  Bible  Society.  Over  six  hun- 
dred persons  are  employed  in  these  establishments, 
and" six  thousand  Bibles  are  printed,  and  three  hundred 
and  fifty  Bibles  are  bound  and  finished,  and  sent  to  the 
warerooms  every  day.    The  Bible  is  printed  here  in 


NATIONAL  ACADEMY  OF  DESIGN. 


311 


twenty-nine  different  languages,  and  portions  of  it  have 
been  published  in  other  languages  still.  The  Society 
possesses  a  magnificent  library  upon  biblical  subjects, 
among  which  is  one  of  the  largest  and  most  complete 
and  valuable  collections  of  the  Scriptures  in  existence. 
The  receipts  of  the  Society  from  1816,  the  date  of  its 
organization,  to  1876,  exceeded  $17,000,000.  In  die 
sixty-three  years  following  its  organization  it  printed 
and  circulated  36,052,169  copies  of  the  Scriptures. 

The  National  Academy  of  Design  is  located  at  the 
northwest  corner  of  Fourth  avenue  ai;id  23d  street,  and 
•  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  artistic  buildings  in 
New  York.  It  is  built  in  the  pure  Gothic  style  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  and  is  constructed  of  gray  and  white 
marble  and  bluestone,  artistically  blended,  and  pro- 
ducing a  novel  and  pleasing  effect.  The  23d  street  front 
is  eighty  feet,  and  the  Fourth  avenue  side  ninety  feet  in 
length.  A  double  flight  of  steps  leads  to  the  main  en- 
trance, and  is  ornamented  with  beautiful  carvings  and 
a  drinking  fountain,  all  of  which  blend  harmoniously 
with  the  general  design.  The  main  entrance,  on  2  3d^ 
street,  leads  to  a  handsome  vestibule,  paved  with  varie- 
gated marbles.  From  this  a  massive  and  imposing 
stairway  leads  to  the  exhibition  galleries,  which  are  lo- 
cated in  the  third  story  and  lighted  from  the  roof.  The 
first  and  second  stories  are  devoted  to  the  reception 
room,  offices,  lecture  rooms,  art  schools,  and  the  library. 
All  the  halls  and  rooms  are  finished  handsomely  in 
white  pine,  ash,  mahogany,  oak,  and  black  walnut,  in 
their  natural  colors,  no  paint  being  used  on  the  wood- 
work of  the  building. 

The  Academy  is  designed  for  the  free  instruction  of 


312 


NEW  YORK. 


Students  in  painting  and  sculpture.  The  schools  opeiv 
on  the  first  Monday  in  October,  and  close  on  the  first 
of  June  in  the  following  year.  Great  care  is  exercised 
in  the  admission  of  pupils,  as  it  is  designed  to  restrict 
the  schools  to  those  who  intend  to  make  art  the  pro- 
fession of  their  lives.  The  course  of  instruction  is 
thorough,  and  is  conducted  by  artists  of  national  repu- 


NATIONAL  ACADEMY  OF  DESIGN. 


tation.  An  exhibition  of  new  paintings  is  held  in  the 
Spring  of  each  year,  and  is  open  to  the  public  upon 
payment  of  a  small  admission  fee.  Only  the  works  of 
living  American  artists  are  exhibited.  During  the  first 
three  days,  known  respectively  as  "Artists'  Day," 
"Varnishing  Day,"  and  "Private  View,"  no  one  is 
admitted  without  a  card  of  invitation  from  a  member 
of  the  Academy.    These  days  are  noted  events  in 


YOUNG  men's  christian  ASSOCIATION.  313 


fashionable  society,  and  invitations  are  eagerly  sought 
after  by  the  Upper  Ten. 

The  You7ig  Mens  Christian  Association  Building 
stands  opposite  the  Academy  of  Design,  on  the  south- 
west corner  of  Fourth  avenue  and  Twenty-third  street. 
It  is  four  stories  in  height,  with  a  mansard  roof,  broken 
by  three  domes,  containing  a  fifth  story.  The  building 
is  constructed  of  dark  New  Jersey  sandstone,  brought 
from  the  Belleville  quarries,  is  in  the  French  renais- 
sance style,  and  was  erected  in  1869,  at  a  cost  of 
$500,000.  It  is  handsomely  trimmed  with  light  Ohio 
stone.  It  has  a  frontage  of  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  feet  on  Twenty-third  street,  and  eighty-three 
feet  on  Fourth  avenue.  The  Association  occupies 
the  second  and  third  floors,  while  the  fourth  and 
fifth  floors  are  taken  up  chiefly  with  artists'  studios, 
and  the  ground  floor  is  occupied  with  handsome  stores. 
The  leased  portions  of  the  building  return  a  rental  of 
about  <J^i  3,000  per  annum. 

The  main  entrance  is  in  the  centre  of  the  Twenty- 
third  street  front.  A  broad,  handsome  stairway  leads 
to  the  second  floor,  on  which  is  situated  the  main  hall, 
which  occupies  the  western  portion  of  this  and  the 
third  story.  It  is  one  of  the  largest  and  handsomest 
halls  in  the  city,  and  will  comfortably  seat  1 500  people. 
It  is  two  stories  in  height,  and  is  beautifully  and  taste- 
fully decorated.  A  broad  gallery  extends  around 
three  sides  of  the  hall,  and  this  and  the  floor  below  are 
provided  with  iron  chairs,  such  as  are  used  in  the 
principal  theatres.  At  the  western  end  is  a  large  plat- 
form upon  which  opens  a  retiring  room.  On  the  side 
of  the  platform  opposite  the  retiring  room  is  the  great 


314 


NEW  YORK. 


organ,  one  of  the  finest  instruments  in  the  city.  The: 
hall  is  used  for  lectures  and  concerts  during  the  fall, 
winter,  and  spring,  and  on  Sunday  religious  services  are 
conducted  here  by  eminent  divines  invited  by  a  com- 
mittee of  the  Association  for  that  purpose. 

The  remainder  of  the  second  floor  is  occupied  by  the 
reception  room,  the  social  parlor,  the  office  of  the 
Secretary,  who  is  the  executive  officer  of  the  Associa- 
tion, and  the  reading  room,  which  is  liberally  supplied 
with  files  of  the  leading  American  and  foreign  papers 
and  magazines.  A  stairway  leads  from  the  reception 
room  to  the  basement,  in  which  are  located  the  bowl- 
ing alley  and  gymnasium.  The  eastern  portion  of  the 
third  floor  is  taken  up  with  the  library,  containing 
about  13,000  volumes,  and  rooms  for  Bible  class  and 
prayer  meetings  and  for  instruction  in  modern  langua- 
ges and  other  studies.  Bath  rooms  and  other  toilet 
conveniences  are  provided  in  the  building.  All  the 
appointments  are  complete,  handsome  and  elegant. 

The  building  is  the  property  of  the  New  York 
branch  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  an 
organization  too  well  known  throughout  the  country  to 
need  a  description  here.  It  is  open  every  day,  from  8 
A.  M.  to  10  p.  M.,  except  on  Sunday,  when  the  hours 
are  from  2  to  7  p.  m.  It  is  a  sort  of  moral  oasis  to 
young  men  in  the  great  wilderness  of  New  York ;  a 
refuge  from  the  temptations  and  dissipations  by  which 
they  are  surrounded.  While  it  has  a  fixed  scale  of 
charges,  moderate  in  amount,  for  membership,  it  cor- 
dially opens  its  doors  to  all,  especially  to  young  men 
living  in  the  city,  away  from  their  homes,  and  subject 
to  the  demoralizing  influences  of  hotel  and  boarding- 


GRAND  CENTRAL  DEPOT. 


315 


house  life.  Strangers  sojourning  in  the  city  are  es- 
pecially welcome.  The  Association  is  also  actively 
engaged  in  many  noble  works  of  charity.  A  writer  in 
Harpers  Magazine  styles  the  Association  Building  a 
"club  house."  "For  such  it  is,"  he  declares,  "both  in 
its  appliances  and  its  purposes,  though  consecrated 
neither  to  politics,  as  are  some ;  to  social  festivities,  de- 
generating too  often  into  gambling  and  intemperance, 
as  are  others ;  nor  to  literature  and  polite  society,  as 
are  one  or  two ;  but  to  the  cause  of  good  morals,  of 
pure  religion,  and  of  Him  who  is  the  divine  inspirer 
of  the  one  and  the  divine  founder  of  the  other. 

The  Grand  Central  Depot,  at  the  corner  of  Fourth 
avenue  and  42d  street,  and  extending  from  Fourth  to 
Vanderbilt  avenues,  and  from  42d  .to  45th  streets,  is 
one  of  the  most  imposing  edifices  in  New  York,  and 
the  most  superb  and  complete  railway  terminus  in 
America.  With  the  exception  of  the  old  Hudson  River 
Railroad  Depot,  at  Ninth  avenue  and  30th  street,  now 
used  for  suburban  trains  only,  it  is  the  only  railway 
station  in  the  city.  It  is  built  of  red  brick,  with  iron 
trimmings,  painted  in  imitation  of  white  marble.  Three 
massive  pavihons  adorn  the  42d  street  front,  and  two 
the  Vanderbilt  avenue  front,  the  central  pavilion  of  each 
front  being  provided  with  an  ornamental  illuminated 
clock.  The  building  is  six  hundred  and  ninety-six  feet 
long,  and  two  hundred  and  forty  feet  wide.  The  space 
devoted  to  the  railway  tracks  under  the  great  roof  is 
six  hundred  and  ten  feet  long  and  two  hundred  feet 
wide.  Twelve  trains,  each  consisting  of  a  locomotive 
and  twelve  passenger  cars,  can  be  admitted  side  by 
side  at  one  time  in  the  depot.    The  tracks  and  plat- 


316 


NEW  YORK. 


forms  are  sheltered  by  an  immense  glass  and  iron  roof, 
of  a  single  arch,  with  a  span  of  two  hundred  feet  and 
a  height  of  one  hundred  and  ten  feet.  The  offices, 
baggage  and  waiting-rooms,  etc.,  are  located  in  the 
southern  end  and  the  western  side.  Besides  these,  the 
basement  contains  a  police  station,  barber  shop,  and 
restaurant. 

The  depot  is  occupied  by  four  important  lines  of 
railways.  The  42d  street  front  contains  the  offices, 
waiting  and  baggage-rooms  of  the  New  York,  New 
Haven  and  Boston,  and  the  Shore  Line  Railroads ; 
and  the  Vanderbilt  avenue,  or  western  side,  is  taken 
up  with  the  offices,  baggage  and  waiting-rooms  of  the 
New  York,  Harlem  and  Albany,  and  the  Hudson 
River  and  New  York  Central  Railroads,  the  rooms  of 
each  road  teing  entirely  separated  from  those  of  the 
other.  The  upper  floors  of  the  building  are  occupied 
by  the  offices  of  the  various  railway  companies.  All 
the  apartments  in  the  great  structure  are  handsomely 
frescoed,  finished  in  hard  wood,  and  provided  with 
every  convenience. 

The  car  house,  which  comprises  the  principal  portion 
of  the  depot,  is  very  handsome.  The  roof  is  supported 
by  thirty-one  ornamental  iron  trusses,  each  one  of 
which  weighs  forty  tons  and  forms  a  single  arch  stretch- 
ing from  side  to  side.  Eighty  thousand  feet  of  glass 
admit  the  light  of  day,  and  at  night  the  place  is  bril- 
liantly illuminated  by  gas  jets  supplied  with  large  reflec- 
tors and  lit  by  electricity.  The  platforms  between  the 
tracks  and  on  the  sides  are  constructed  of  a  light- 
colored  stone.  Each  road  has  its  own  tracks,  and  so 
perfect  are  the  arrangements  of  the  depot,  that  though 


318 


NEW  YORK. 


one  hundred  and  twenty-five  trains  arrive  and  depart 
daily,  there  is  no  confusion.  The  running  of  the  trains 
is  regulated  by  the  depot  master,  who  occupies  a  lofty 
box  or  office  at  the  north  end  of  the  station,  from 
which  he  can  command  a  view  of  the  various  roads  as 
far  as  the  entrance  to  the  tunnels,  half  a  mile  distant. 
A  system  of  automatic  signals  governs  the  movements 
of  all  trains  from  the  depot  to  the  Harlem  River. 

This  great  building  was  begun  on  the  1 5th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1869,  and  was  completed  on  the  9th  of  October, 
1 87 1.  It  was  projected  by  and  erected  under  the 
supervision  of  the  late  Commodore  Vanderbilt. 

In  the  yards  to  the  north  of  the  depot  are  numerous 
buildings  for  the  shelter  of  cars  and  locomotives,  coal 
sheds  and  repair  shops.  The  tracks  beyond  the  depot 
being  for  several  squares  on  a  level  with  the  street,  a 
number  of  bridges,  built  over  the  tracks,  continue  the 
lines  of  the  various  cross  streets  from  one  side  of 
Fourth  avenue  to  the  other.  Above  the  depot  Fourth 
avenue  is  in  a  perfectly  straight  line,  and  along  it  the 
trains  run  to  Harlem  River,  which  is  four  and  a  half 
miles  above  the  depot.  For  a  mile  and  a  half  above 
the  point  where  the  trains  pass  entirely  below  the 
street  level,  the  road  bed,  containing  two  tracks,  is 
within  an  open  cut  flanked  on  each  side  by  a  tunnel, 
built  of  brick,  and  having  within  it  another  single  track. 
The  cross  streets  are  carried  over  the  cut  on  iron  or 
brick  arches,  while  iron  railings  extend  all  around  the 
cut,  fencing  it  off  from  the  avenue,  which  is  wide  enough 
to  provide  a  good-sized  roadway  for  driving,  and  the 
usual  sidewalks  for  pedestrians  on  each  side  of  the  cut. 
Above  this  mile  and  a  half  the  street  level  gradually 


THE  FOURTH  AVENUE  TUNNELS. 


319 


becomes  much  higher,  and  the  road  bed  of  the  railways 
runs  for  half  a  mile  through  a  partly  brick  built  and 
partly  rock  cut  tunnel,  at  the  upper  end  of  which  the 
street  level  makes  a  sudden  descent,  and  the  road  bed 
is  carried  over  the  Harlem  Flats  on  a  stone  viaduct, 
the  cross  streets  passing  underneath,  through  arches. 
When  the  street  level  again  ascends,  about  a  mile  and 
a  quarter  from  the  Harlem  River,  the  road  bed  is 
again  run  through  an  open  cut,  like  that  just  above  the 
depot." 


320  NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

NEW  year's  calls. 

JIBW  York's  great  festal  day— preparations  for  new  year's  day — the  HAIR-DRBSSBSa^ 
ROUNDS — reception  CARDS — HOW  THEY  ARE  ISSUED — JOINT  RECEPTIONS — THE  CARD-BAS- 
KET AND   ITS  MEANING  LADIES*  TOILETS — A  CHANCE  FOR  REFORM — THE  FIRST  CALLERS— 

THE  VETERANS — ADVANTAGES  OF  A  LIST — SCENES  TOWARD  NIGHTFALL — TOO  MUCH  PUNCH- 
MRS.  B.'S  RECEPTION — A  SWEET  FINALE — NEW  YEAR  IN  THE  KITCHEN — HOW  THE  SALOONS 
CELEBRATE  THE  DAY — REFRESHMENTS  AND  PUNCH  FOR  ALL — NEW  YORK  WITH  A  HBAU- 
ACHE — ladies'  day. 

The  Christmas  festivities  are  scarcely  over,  when- 
New  Yofk  again  puts  on  its  holiday  attire,  and  pre- 
pares to  celebrate  in  hearty  style  its  own  peculiar  day 
— the  first  day  of  the  New  Year.  Since  the  settlement, 
of  the  colony  by  the  Dutch,  the  first  of  January  has 
been  set  apart  by  the  dwellers  in  the  metropolis  for 
social  observance,  for  renewing  former  friendships 
strengthening  old  ones,  and  wishing  each  other  health 
and  happiness  for  the  year  just  opening.  The  custom 
is  a  pleasing  one,  but  it  is  observed  now  in  a  manner 
that  would  make  the  old  Knickerbockers  roll  their  eyes 
in  surprise  could  they  but  look  upon  it. 

Among  the  middle  classes  and  the  steadier-going; 
citizens,  New  Year's  Day  is  observed  with  hearti- 
ness, but  also  with  characteristic  good  sense.  It  is 
only  after  we  enter  the  charmed  realm  of  society  that 
we  find  the  glare  and  the  show  that  have  given  to  the 
day  its  peculiar  characteristics.  With  the  Upper-Ten- 
Thousand  it  is  made  the  occasion  of  displaying  the 
wealth  and  style  of  the  family,  and  of  impressing  the 


PREPARING  TO  RECEIVE. 


321 


callers  with  a  proper  sense  of  its  importance  in  the 
social  worldo 

Long  before  Christmas  preparations  are  begun  for 
the  great  event,  houses  are  cleaned,  garnished,  and 
put  in  apple-pie  order.  If  new  furniture  is  needed,  its 
purchase  is  postponed  until  the  last  of  the  old  year,  in 
order  that  it  may  shine  forth  in  all  its  splendor  at  the 
beginning  of  the  new.  The  dressmakers  are  busy  pre- 
paring magnificent  costumes  for  the  occasion,  and  the 
tailors  have  all  they  can  do  to  provide  the  gentlemen 
with  new  outfits  in  which  to  make  their  calls.  Car- 
nages are  engaged  for  weeks  beforehand,  and  enor- 
mous prices  are  charged  for  them,  as  much  as  forty  or 
fifty  dollars  being  paid  for  a  vehicle  for  the  day.  From 
five  to  ten  dollars  an  hour  is  the  usual  charge.  Hair- 
dressers are  busy  going  from  house  to  house,  arrang- 
ing the  coiffures  of  the  ladies.  They  begin  their  rounds 
at  midnight  on  the  31st  of  December,  and  are  busy 
until  noon  the  next  day.  Those  who  are  so  unfortu- 
nate as  to  be  among  the  first  served  by  these  ''artistes 
in  hair,"  have  a  hard  time  of  it.  They  cannot  think  of 
lying  down,  as  to  do  so  would  be  to  disarrange  their 
hair,  so  they  must  either  keep  awake  all  night,  or  sleep 
sitting  bolt  upright  in  a  chair. 

Ladies  who  intend  to  "  receive,"  often  club  together 
at  the  residence  of  one  of  the  party  and  hold  a  joint 
reception.  This  is  rather  hard  on  the  average  caller, 
especially  towards  the  later  hours  of  the  day.  A  gentle- 
man calls  at  a  house,  expecting  to  pay  his  respects  to 
Mrs.  A.,  the  mistress  of  the  establishment.  He  finds 
associated  with  her  Mrs.  B.,  Mrs.  C,  and  perhaps  Mrs. 
D.,  to  each  of  whom  he  must  pay  his  respects  and  get 
21 


322 


NEW  YORK. 


off  his  prettiest  sayings.  On  such  occasions  the  mat- 
ters are  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  ladies  of  the  house. 
The  male  members  of  the  family  are  out  making  calls 
at  other  residences,  and  the  ladies  have  things  all  their 
own  way. 

Of  late  years,  ladies  who  desire  a  long  list  of  callers 
— and  the  larger  the  list  the  greater  the  social  eclat — 
issue  cards  a  week  or  so  prior  to  the  first  of  January, 
a  virtual  invitation  to  the  person  receiving  one  to  call 
on  New  Year's  Day.  The  consequence  is,  that  Tom, 
Dick,  and  Harry  pull  the  bells  of  houses  they  never 
saw  before,  are  greeted  by  ladies  they  may  or  may  not 
know,  and  are,  as  a  rule,  prepared  to  meet  their  hostess 
on  just  such  terms  as  her  unsolicited  acquaintance  and 
advances  would  apparently  warrant.  This  is  on  a  par 
with  a  habit  some  very  young  men  have  of  "  pooling 
their  lists."  Mr.  A.  knows  twenty  ladies,  Mr.  B.  the 
same  number,  Mr.  C.  thirty,  and  Mr.  D.  twenty-five. 
The  quartette  hire  a  carriage  together,  put  their  lists  in 
one,  and  rush  around  frantically  from  house  to  house, 
each  introducing  the  others  to  his  friends  in  turn. 
Nowadays  the  Elevated  Railroads  save  the  young  men 
considerable  expense  in  carriage  hire.  They  can  get 
about  the  city  very  quickly  by  means  of  these  rapid 
trains,  and  as  the  lines  run  but  a  short  distance  from 
the  fashionable  thoroughfares,  the  walk  before  them  is 
short. 

It  has  become  the  custom  for  families  who  do  not 
intend  to  receive  callers  to  close  the  front  of  the  house 
and  suspend  a  small  card-basket  from  the  front  door 
knob.  Visitors  at  once  take  the  hint,  drop  their  cards 
into  the  basket,  and  pass  on.    Sometimes  the  mansion 


ladies'  new  year  toilettes. 


323 


thus  closed  is  one  famous  for  its  bountifully-spread 
table.  In  such  cases  the  visitor  is  not  a  little  put  out 
by  the  reflection  that  the  failure  of  the  family  to  ob- 
serve "the  time-honored  custom"  ha^s  cut  him  out  of  a 
"  royal  feed." 

Ten  o'clock  is  the  earliest  hour  at  which  Society 
permits  calls  to  be  paid.  The  most  exclusive  do  not 
open  their  doors  until  noon.  Then  the  stream  of 
visitors  begins  to  set  in,  and  continues  until  eight  or 
nine  o'clock. 

The  parlors  of  the  mansions  where  calls  are  expected 
are  lavishly  adorned  with  flowers,  and  a  handsome 
table  is  spread,  provided  with  all  the  delicacies  of  the 
season,  and  rare  and  costly  wines,  and  punch.  In 
the  more  exclusive  dwellings  the  curtains  are  down 
and  the  gas  lighted.  The  ladies  of  the  family,  ravish- 
ingly  dressed,  take  their  stand  in  the  drawing-room 
and  await  their  visitors.  The  dresses  are  all  new  for 
the  occasion — that  is,  what  there  is  of  them.  They 
are  full  and  elaborate  below  the  waist,  but  above  that 
there  is  a  plentiful  lack  of  dry  goods,  and  a  liberal 
display  of  neck,  arms  and  shoulders.  Gazing  at  these 
marvelously  attired  creatures,  one  cannot  help  calling 
to  mind  the  words  of  the  great  Dr.  Johnson  to  the 
equally  great  David  Garrick:  "Davy,  I  shan't  come 
behind  the  scenes  at  your  theatre  any  more — the  silk 
stockings  and  white  bosoms  of  your  actresses  excite 
my  amatory  propensities,  and  render  me  unfit  for  work 
on  the  dictionary." 

Amid  all  the  outcry  for  reform  on  these  occasions, 
why  does  not  some  one  propose  a  reform  in  the  matter 
of  feminine  toilettes  at  New  Year  receptions?    Is  it 


324 


NEW  YORK. 


Strange  that  some  very  young  men,  whose  weak  heads 
have  been  dazed  by  the  numerous  healths  they  have 
drank  during  the  day,  should,  in  the  presence  of  so 
many  charms,  occasionally  forget  where  they  are? 

In  a  little  while  the  first  caller  is  announced  by  the 
servant  in  charge  of  the  front  door.  He  divests  him- 
self of  his  hat  and  overcoat  in  the  hall,  and  enters  the 
presence  of  the  ladies.  The  first  ones  are  generally 
young  men  who  are  anxious  to  make  as  many  calls  as 
possible,  and  start  out  early.  The  old  stagers  do  not 
come  upon  the  scene  until  later  in  the  day.  The 
visitor  advances  to  the  hostess,  pays  his  respects  to 
her  and  the  other  ladies  present,  wishes  them  a  happy 
New  Year,  and  utters  a  few  common-places  on  the 
weather.  The  hostess  responds  pleasantly,  and  invites 
the  gentleman  to  partake  of  some  of  the  refreshments 
spread  before  him,  including  a  glass  of  wine  or  punch, 
and  smiles  quietly  at  the  eagerness  with  which  he 
responds  to  her  invitation.  The  refreshments  are 
swallowed  hurriedly,  the  visitor  winds  up  with  a  few 
complimentary  phrases,  which  he  repeats  at  every 
house  he  visits,  until  the  wine  and  the  punch  have 
driven  them  from  his  memory,  and  bows  himself  out, 
leaving  the  ladies  to  pick  his  character  to  pieces  when 
he  is  gone.  Other  callers  follow  in  rapid  succession, 
and  the  same  scene  is  repeated  until  the  night  ends  the 
farce.  The  young  men  eat  little  and  drink  much  at 
such* visits.  The  veteran  caller,  however,  knows  where 
the  best  tables  are  spread,  and  the  hostess'  heart 
warms  to  see  the  ample  justice  he  does  to  her  good 
taste.  He  drinks  little,  and  so  keeps  his  head  cool, 
-and  during  the  day  manages  to  get  three  or  four  good 


THE  VETEJiAN  CALLER  AT  HIS  WORK. 


326 


NEW  YORK. 


square  meals,  under  the  pretence  of  partaking  of  re- 
freshments. 

Most  of  the  men,  in  starting  out  on  their  calls,  make 
out  a  list  of  the  houses  they  intend  to  visit.  This  is 
given  to  the  driver  of  the  carriage  occupied,  and  he 
follows  it  in  the  order  in  which  it  is  made  out.  Now 
this  is  a  wise  precaution.  Few  men  could  trust  their 
memories  with  so  many  names,  and  towards  the  end 
of  the  day,  when  the  wine  and .  the  punch  have  done 
their  work,  memory  is  incapable  of  performing  any  of 
her  functions,  and  the  list  becomes  a  necessity.  Some- 
times, when  the  list  is  almost  used  up,  and  the  caller  is 
in  the  same  condition,  the  driver  leads  him  from  the 
carriage  to  the  door  of  the  next  mansion  to  be  visited, 
rings  the  bell,  and  thrusts  him  inside.  Be  not  too 
quick,  oh  reader,  to  commend  the  tender  care  of  said 
driver.  The  door  remains  open  long  enough  for  him 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  what  follows,  and  you  may  be 
very  sure  he  is  repaid  by  the  fun  that  ensues. 

The  scene  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  in  some  of 
the  splendid  mansions  of  the  upper  ten,  is  one  that 
must  be  witnessed  to  be  appreciated.  The  ladies  are 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  and  bored  to  death  by  the  stu- 
'pidity  of  their  visitors.  Carriages  rattle  up  furiously; 
young  men  in  various  stages  of  booziness  are  ushered 
in.  Some  are  dreamy  and  melancholy,  and  hold  on 
firmly  to  a  chair  or  the  corner  of  the  table  while 
endeavoring  to  get  out  their  set  speeches;  others  are 
merry  and  boisterous;  others  still  are  disposed  to  be  a 
little  too  friendly  with  the  ladies.  It  may  be  that  the 
ladies  themselves  have  had  too  much  punch — such 
things  do  happen.    And  then  the^  scene  is  indescrib- 


BEWILDERED  CALLERS. 


327 


ably  ludicrous.  These  late  visitors  leer  vaguely  at  the 
hostess  and  her  companions,  mutter  their  compliments 
and  good  wishes  in  thick,  unsteady  voices,  gulp  down 


A  CALLER  WHO  HAS  HAD  "  TOO  MUCH  PUNCH." 


the  liquors  offered  them,  and  stagger  out  into  the  hall, 
where  the  servant  assists  them  in  making  their  way  out. 
Sometimes  a  gendeman  who  has  paid  a  large  number 
of  calls  falls  helpless  at  the  feet  of  the  hostess,  and  has 


328 


NEW  YORK. 


to  be  assisted  by  the  servants  to  his  carriage.  They 

tell  a  story  in  New  York  of  a  certain  Mrs.  B  ,  one 

of  the  latest  new  comers  in  the  avenue.  Of  her  origin 
it  is  needless  to  speak;  her  peculiar  brogue  told  the 
story  of  that.  Having  no  daughters  of  her  own,  she 
induced  two  of  her  lady  friends,  like  herself  new  stars 
in  the  firmament  of  fashion,  to  assist  her  at  her  first 
reception.  '  They  had  scores  of  callers,  and  the  recep- 
tion lasted  late  into  the  evening.  It  ended  with  the  ser- 
vants closing  the  house,  and  leaving  the  hostess,  her 
fair  friends,  and  several  gentlemen  callers,  comfortably 
settled  in  sofas  and  arm  chairs — one  was  on  the  floor, 
where  they  passed  the  remainder  of  the  night.  It  was 
the  old  story — too  much  champagne  and  punch. 

No  one  loses  caste  in  society  for  these  little  indiscre- 
tions, however.  Society  is  charitable,  and  the  parties 
are  readily  pardoned  for  "what  might  occur  to  any 
one." 

While  these  things  are  going  on  above  stairs,  the 
kitchen  is  doing  its  full  share  in  the  proper  observance 
of  the  day.  Biddy  sets  a  fine  table  for  her  own  callers, 
and  a  travesty  of  the  scenes  in  the  drawing  room  is 
v-snacted  in  the  kitchen  below — all  at  the  master's 
expense.    Trust  Biddy  for  looking  after  that. 

Those  who  have  no  friends  to  call  upon  may  be  sup- 
posed to  feel  lonely  on  New  Year's  day.  Not  so.  The 
free  lunch  tables  of  the  bar  rooms  are  bountifully 
spread,  and  are  open  to  all  comers.  True,  the  liquors 
used  must  be  paid  for,  and  are  not  quite  as  good  in 
quality  as  those  provided  gratis  in  the  avenue  man- 
sions, but  enough  is  dispensed  to  repay  the  saloon 
keeper  for  his  outlay  upon  the  lunch  table.    The  fun 


ladies'  day. 


329 


IS  rather  more  uproarious  than  in  the  drawing  room, 
and  sometimes  degenerates  into  a  free  fight,  which  the 
police  are  called  upon  to  stop.  But  all  who  wish  to  be 
merry,  and  do  homage  to  "the  time-honored  custom," 
can  find  ample  opportunity  to  indulge  their  inclinations, 
in  one  way  or  another,  on  this  festal  day. 

January  the  2d  finds  Young  New  York  with  a  head- 
ache, and  the  older  part  used  up  with  fatigue.  This  is 
"Ladies'  Day,"  and  is  devoted  by  the  fair  sex  to  calling 
upon  each  other,  exchanging  notes  as  to  the  receptions 
of  the  previous  day,  imbibing  more  punch,  and  swallow- 
ing more  refreshments.  The  balance  of  the  week  is 
spent  in  recovering  from  the  effects  of  two  days  of  hard 
social  work,  and  in  preparing  for  the  round  of  fashion- 
able dissipation,  which  fills  up  the  balance  of  the 
'  winter. 


330 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

AMONG  THE  BULLS  AND  BEARS  OF  WALL  STREET. 

►BSCRIPTION  OF  WALL  STREET — VALUE  OF  REAL  ESTATE — ENORMOUS  RENTS — ORIGtW  OF  THB 
NAME  OF  THE  STREET — NOTABLE  BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS  OF  THE  STREET — THE  SCENB 
AT  NOON — THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE — THE  LONG  ROOM — OUTSIDE  DEALERS — THE  REGULAR 
BOARD — HOW  BUSINESS  IS  CONDUCTED  IN  THE  EXCHANGE — THE  VICE-PRESIDENT — RULES  OP 
THE  EXCHANGE — GOOD  FAITH  EXACTED  OF  ITS  MEMBERS — THE  GOVERNMEPTT  BOARD — 
CHARACTERISTIC  SCENES — THE  VAULTS  AND  THEIft  TREASURES — THE  TELEGRAPH  INSTRU- 
MENTS— THE  "tickers" — LIFE  OF  A  STOCK  BROKER — SPORTS  OF  THE  EXCHANGE — THB 
CLEARING  HOUSE  AND  ITS  OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE  BROKERS — RECKLESS  TRANSACTIONS- 
STOCK    SPECULATIONS — BUYING    AND    SELLING   ON   COMMISSION — UNCERTAINTIES    OF  THB 

STREET— HOW   FORTUNES  ARE  MADE  AND  LOST  ON   WALL  STREET— STOCK  GAMBLING  WHO 

ARE  THE   SPECULATORS — A  DARING   BROKER — "  BLACK   FRIDAY  "  HOW  AN  OPERATOR  WAS 

RUINED — STOCK   SWINDLERS — SHARPERS   IN  WALL   STREET  THE    COMBINATION  SYSTEM — A 

BAREFACED    SWINDLE  ACTION  OF  THE    GENERAL    GOVERNMENT — HOW   BOGUS  OPERATORS 

FLEECE  UNSUSPECTING  CUSTOMERS — AN  INSIDE  VIEW  OF  THE  COMBINATION  SYSTEM— 
■HORMOUS   PROFITS— THB  SWINDLE   EXPOSED — A  WARNING  TO   WOULD-BB  SPBCULATORS. 

I. 

WALL  STREET. 

Wall  Street,  the  financial  centre,  not  only  of  New 
York,  but  of  the  New  World,  is  but  half  a  mile  in 
length,  and  is  one  of  the  narrowest  thoroughfares  in 
the  Great  City.  It  commences  on  the  East  side  of 
Broadway,  opposite  Trinity  Church,  and  runs  direct  to 
the  East  River,  gradually  sloping  from  its  Western  end 
towards  the  water.  It  is  handsomely  built  up  along 
the  greater  part  of  its  course,  and  contains  some  of  the 
most  elegant  buildings  in  the  city.  Marble,  brown- 
stone  and  brick  are  the  materials  chiefly  used,  iron 
finding  no  favor  in  the  financial  heart  of  the  city.  The 
buildings  are  used  for  banks,  brokers',  lawyers'  offices, 
and  as  the  headquarters  of  some  of  the  greatest  cor- 


WALL  STREET. 


331 


porations  in  the  Union.  The  street  contains  the  Stock 
Exchange,  the  United  States  Sub-Treasury  and  Assay 
Office,  and  the  Custom  House.  All  the  buildings, 
with  the  exception  of  those  just  named,  are  filled  from 
top  to  bottom  with  offices.  Land  is  more  valuable 
here  than  in  any  other  section  of  the  city;  even  Broad- 
way prices  for  real  estate  sink  into  insignificance  when 
compared  with  those  demanded  in  Wall  street.  Rents 
are  in  proportion,  and  the  cost  of  a  comfortable  dwell- 
ing house  is  often  paid  for  a  year's  use  of  a  small 
office  in  a  desirable  location.  Landlords  reap  a  rich 
harvest  here.  Brokers  must  be  close  to  the  Stock 
Exchange,  and  the  lawyers  doing  business  here  must 
be  near  their  clients.  These  classes  pay  any  rent 
asked  in  order  to  hold  their  places. 

The  streets  intersecting  Wall  street  are  lined  for 
several  blocks  with  banks,  bankers'  and  brokers'  offices, 
and  are  all  included  in  the  general  term  "Wall  Street," 
in  dealing  with  financial  matters.  Even  Broad  street 
is  absorbed  in  the  term,  and  yields  precedence  to  its 
smaller  rival. 

Wall  street  derives  its  name  from  the  fact  that 
under  the  rule  of  the  Dutch,  the  northern  wall  of  the 
city  followed  the  line  now  pursued  by  the  street. 
Long  before  the  advent  of  the  English,  houses  sprang 
up  on  each  side  of  the  wall,  and  the  open  space  betw^een 
them  became  a  well  traveled  street,  known  as  "Long 
de  Wa!,'*  which  was  afterwards  changed  to  the  present 
name.  Wall  street.  The  wall  was  demolished  in  1 699, 
and  the  stones  were  used  to  build  a  Town  Hall,  which 
stood  on  the  site  of  the  present  United  States  Sub- 
Treasury.    Prior  to  the  Revolution,  the  lower  part  of 


332 


NEW  YORK. 


the  street  was  occupied  by  rows  of  stores,  from  the 
river  to  Front  Street,  while  the  upper  part,  to  Broad- 
way, was  taken  up  with  dwellings.  In  1 791  the  Bank 
of  New  York  was  erected  at  the  corner  of  William 
street,  and  gave  the  signal  for  the  removal  of  the 
residences  and  the  conversion  of  the  street  inte  the 
centre  of  financial  operations.  The  change  was  soon 
accomplished,  and  by  1825  the  entire  street  was  given 
over  to  the  destiny  which  has  since  attended  it. 

On  the  south  side  of  the  street,  a  short  distance  be* 
low  Broadway,  is  the  Wall  street  front  of  the  Stock 
Exchange,  built  of  white  marble  and  very  handsome^ 
but  not  so  imposing  as  the  Broad  street  front.  On 
the  northeast  corner  of  Nassau  street  is  the  Sub- 
Treasury,  a  noble  edifice  of  white  marble,  built  in  the 
Doric  style  of  architecture,  with  an  imposing  portico 
reached  from  the  street  by  a  broad  flight  of  marble 
stairs.  Next  door  is  the  Assay  Office,  a  branch  of  the 
Sub-Treasury,  but  a  more  modest  edifice  of  granite. 
Immediately  opposite  is  the  finest  private  banking 
house  in  the  Union.  It  is  built  of  white  marble,  and 
fronts  on  both  Wall  and  Broad  streets.  It  is  owned 
by  the  Drexels,  who  here  conduct  the  New  York 
branch  of  their  enormous  business.  It  is  said  that  the 
ground  on  which  it  stands  brought  the  highest  price 
ever  paid  for  land  in  New  York.  On  the  south  side 
of  the  street,  occupying  an  irregular  block  bounded  by 
Wall  street,  Exchange  Place,  William  and  Hanover 
streets,  is  the  Custom  House,  a  stately  edifice  of 
granite,  once  known  and  used  as  the  Merchants'  Ex- 
change. Just  below,  on  the  same  side  of  Wall  street, 
is  the   beautiful    marble   banking  house  of  Brown 


THE  WALL  STREET  OF  TO-DAY. 


333 


Brothers.  All  along  the  street  are  banks,  with  vaults 
stored  with  almost  fabulous  wealth,  and  offices  occupied 
by  men  whose  names  are  powers  in  the  financial  world. 
The  transactions  of  "The  Street"  foot  up  an  almost 
fabulous  sum  daily,  and  the  mind  fairly  staggers  under 
the  weight  of  the  figures  which  represent  the  aggregate 
of  the  business  done  here  year  by  year.  From  9  a.  m. 
to  4  P.  M.  on  week  days,  the  financial  transactions  ar- 
ranged here  exceed  those  of  all  the  financial  exchanges 
in  all  the  other  cities  of  the  Union. 

The  proper  time  to  see  Wall  street  in  its  glory  is 
high  noon.  From  the  steps  of  the  Sub-Treasury  an 
admirable  view  is  obtained  of  both  Wall  and  Broad 
streets,  with  their  busy,  eager  throngs,  all  bent  on 
making  money.  Bank  messengers,  with  bags  filled 
with  coin,  greenbacks,  bills  of  exchange,  bonds,  and 
stocks,  hurry  along,  keeping  a  firm  grip  upon  their  bags 
and  eyeing  each  person  they  pass  warily;  office  boys, 
telegraph  boys  with  yellow  envelopes  containing  mes- 
sages from  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  dart  here  and 
there  through  the  throng,  and  quiet,  unobtrusive 
detectives  stroll  leisurely  along  the  sidewalks,  on  the 
alert  to  discover  and  prevent  any  attempt  at  street  rob- 
beries. The  great  centre  of  attraction  is  the  Broad 
street  front  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  where  a  stalwart 
policeman  stands  guard  at  the  entrance,  to  keep  out 
unauthorized  visitors.  The  steps,  the  sidewalk  and  the 
street  are  black  with  a  struggling,  shrieking  mass  of 
"Curbstone  Brokers,"  who  are  doing  quite  as  lively, 
although  not  so  reliable,  a  business  as  that  which  is 
going  on  within  the  Exchange.  Long  rows  of  cabs 
stand  in  Broad  street  awaiting  customers.    Men  dart 


V 


334  NEW  YORK. 

out  from  the  Exchange  or  the  neighboring  offices,  jump 
into  these  vehicles  and  are  off  hke  a  flash.  Fast  driv» 
ing  is  not  noticed  here,  for  time  is  everything.  Over- 
head stretches  a  vast  network  of  telegraph  wires,  look- 
ing like  a  gigantic  cobweb,  each  and  all  throbbing 
messages  that  may  affect  the  fate  of  millions.  Over 
all  come  floating  the  sweet  tones  of  the  chimes  of  old 
Trinity,  sounding  clear  and  strong  above  the  rattle  and 
roar  of  the  street,  telling  that  time  is  passing,  and 
eternity  is  drawing  near  for  some  of  the  busy  schemers 
in  tiiis  great  realm  of  Mammon. 

II. 

THE  NEW  YORK  STOCK  EXCHANGE. 

The  Stock  Exchange  of  New  York  is  located  on 
Broad  street,  and  extends  back  to  New  street.  It  has 
also  an  L  running  through  to  Wall  street,  where  the 
visitors'  entrance  is  located.  It  is  a  handsome  building 
of  white  marble,  and  the  Broad  street  entrance  is  orna- 
mented with  a  fine  portico  of  iron.  The  building  is 
occupied  by  the  Stock  Exchange  proper,  the  Mining 
Board,  and  the  Government  Board.  During  the  past 
year  the  internal  arrangements  of  the  building  have 
been  altered  and  improved,  at  great  expense,  and  the 
Exchange  is  now  one  of  the  handsomest  and  most  con- 
veniently arranged  edifices  in  the  city. 

The  Broad  street  entrance  leads  directly  to  a  large 
hall  on  the  street  floor.  This  is  "The  Long  Room,"  and 
is  devoted  to  the  irregular  sales  of  stocks  which  are 
not  included  among  the  transactions  of  the  exchange 
proper.  Any  one,  by  paying  ^50,  can  purchase  an 
annual  ticket  of  admission  to  this  room,  and  can  engage 


THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE. 


335 


here  in  the  purcliase  and  sale  of  stocks  without  being 
a  member  of  the  regular  board.  The  hall  is  always 
filled  with  a  noisy  crowd,  yelling  and  gesticulating  vio- 
lently, and  rushing  about  Jie  room  like  a  parcel  of 
lunatics.    There  is  no  regular  ^rder  of  proceedings. 


NEW  YORK  STOCK  BXCHANGB. 

A  dozen  different  stocks  are  being  purchased  and  sold 
at  the  same  moment,  and  only  an  habitue  of  the  place 
can  tell  the  meaning  of  the  hideous  cries  and  frantic 
gestures  of  the  half  crazed  mob.  The  crowd  is  not 
overclean,  and  is  in  strange  contrast  with  the  natty. 


336 


NEW  YORK. 


sprucely  dressed  brokers  operating  in  the  Exchange 
above.  Yet  these  men  are  equally  in  earnest  with 
their  more  fortunate  neighbors.  Millions  of  dollars 
change  hands  here  annually.  No  written  and  rigidly 
enforced  code  of  laws  governs  the  transactions  of  the 
Long  Room,  and  you  must  know  well  the  man  you  are 
dealing  with  here.  Strange  faces  are  constantly  appear- 
ing here,  for  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  room  are  sudden 
and  sharpo  A  few  years  hence  you  will  see  some  of  the 
men  who  are  now  dealing  largely  here  begging  a  night's 
lodging  at  the  station  house,  or  you  may  find  them 
seated  in  the  Exchange  above,  among  the  financial 
magnates  of  the  land. 

The  Stock  Exchange  occupies  a  spacious  and  lofty 
hall  on  the  floor  above  the  Long  Room.  It  is  hand- 
somely decorated,  well  ventilated  and  warmed,  and 
massive  and  elegant  gas  fixtures  furnish  the  means  of 
flooding  the  hall  with  a  brilliant  light.  At  one  end  is  a 
gallery,  with  accommodations  for  about  200  persons, 
to  which  strangers  are  admitted  during  the  sessions  of 
the  Board.  A  large  platform  at  the  opposite  end  of  the 
hall  is  fitted  up  with  handsome  desks  for  the  vice-presi- 
dent, the  secretary,  and  the  telegraph  operator.  On 
each  side  is  a  large  blackboard  on  which  the  quota- 
tions of  the  day  are  recorded.  Adjoining  the  hall  are 
committee  and  cloak  rooms  for  the  use  of  the  members. 

"  The  Stock  Exchange  Board  is  regularly  incorporated 
under  the  laws  of  the  State  of  New  York,  and  is  the 
only  lawful  association  in  the  city  for  the  purchase  and 
sale  of  stocks  and  bonds.  It  con^sts  of  1060  members, 
who  are  admitted  by  ballot,  and  no  one  but  a  man  of 
well-known  integrity  and  sound  financial  standing  can 


HOW  STOCKS  ARE  SOLD. 


337 


obtain  admission  to  the  Board.  The  control  of  the 
organization  is  vested  in  a  council  of  forty  members, 
of  which  the  President,  Secretary,  and  Treasurer  are 
members,  ex  officio.  A  seat  in  the  Board  costs  about 
$6000,  and  is  the  absolute  personal  property  of  its 
owner.  He  may  sell  or  otherwise  dispose  of  it  as  he 
would  any  other  property  belonging  to  him,  subject 
only  to  the  approval  of  the  Committee  on  Admissions. 
In  case  of  the  death  of  a  member,  the  Committee  dis- 
poses of  his  seat,  and  after  paying  all  dues  and  other 
claims  on  the  part  of  the  Exchange  against  him,  hands 
the  balance  to  his  heirs.  A  member  who  becomes 
insolvent  or  fails  to  meet  his  contracts  is  suspended, 
and  cannot  be  readmitted  until  he  has  made  a  satis- 
factory settlement  with  his  creditors.  Should  he  fail  to 
do  this,  his  seat  is  sold,  for  their  benefit.  The  Board 
requires  from  its  members  the  utmost  good  faith  in 
their  transactions,  and  punishes  any  departure  from 
the  strictest  commercial  integrity. 

All  stocks  and  bonds  offered  for  sale  in  the  Exchange 
are  closely  examined  by  a  committee,  and  none  can 
be  dealt  in  until  it  is  found  to  be  a  bo7ia  fide  security. 

Two  sessions  of  the  Board  are  held  daily,  the  morn^ 

ing  session  at  half-past  ten,  and  the  afternoon  session 

at  one  o'clock.    The  order  of  proceedings  is  the  same 

on  both  occasions.    Two  lists  of  stocks,  the  Regular 

and  the  Free  List,  being  called  each  time.   The  Regular 

List  is  made  up  in  advance  of  the  session,  and  must 

always  be  called,  and  called  first.    It  is  divided  into  five 

parts:  i,  Miscellaneous  Stocks;   2,  Railroad  Stocks; 

3,  State  Bonds;  4,  City  Stocks;  5,  Railroad  Bonds. 

The  session  is  called  to  order  by  the  Vice-president; 
22 


NEW  YORK. 


after  which  the  Secretary  reads  the  minutes  of  the  pre- 
vious meeting.  The  Regular  List  is  then  called,  and 
the  work  of  the  day  begins.  Very  little  interest  is 
manifested  in  the  call  of  miscellaneous  stocks.  Bids 
are  quickly  made  and  accepted,  and  there  is  an  evi- 
dent desire  to  get  through  with  this  part  of  the  routine 
as  quickly  as  possible.  The  offers  and  sales  are  re- 
peated by  the  Vice-president  to  the  Secretary  as  fast 
as  they  are  made,  and  the  transactions  are  recorded 
by  him  in  the  minutes,  while  a  clerk  registers  them  on 
the  blackboard  on  the  platform.  Should  a  dispute 
arise  as  to  the  purchase  or  sale  of  a  security,  an  appeal 
is  made  to  the  Vice-president,  whose  decision  is  final. 

Railroad  stocks  are  next  called,  and  in  an  instant 
the  Board  is  in  an  uproar.  Offers  to  sell  and  to  pur- 
chase come  in  rapid  succession,  sometimes  a  score  or 
more  at  a  time,  and  are  all  yelled  out  at  the  top  of  the 
brokers'  lungs.  The  noise  is  terrific,  and  it  seems  as 
if  the  operators  had  suddenly  gone  mad.  A  stranger 
can  make  nothing  out  of  this  confusion,  but  the  keen 
eye  of  the  Vice-president  is  everywhere  on  the  throng, 
and  his  quick  ear  catches  the  offers  and  bids,  and  notes 
the  sales,  which  are  promptly  communicated  by  him  to 
the  Secretary,  who  writes  them  down.  At  the  same  time 
the  clerk  records  them  on  the  official  blackboard,  and 
the  telegraph  operator  flashes  them  to  all  parts  of  New 
York,  where  they  are  noted  on  the  long  ribbons  of  the 
thousands  of  "tickers"  in  the  offices,  hotels,  saloons, 
restaurants,  and  bar-rooms  of  the  city.  Thanks  to 
these  "tickers,"  or  recording  instruments,  men  can 
Watch  the  market,  and  buy  and  sell,  miles  away  from 
the  Stock  Exchange,  for  the  "  ticker  "  keeps  them  in- 


FINING  MEMBERS. 


339 


formed,  minute  by  minute,  of  the  transactions  there, 
and  the  telegraph  puts  them  in  instantaneous  commu- 
nication with  their  brokers. 

The  railroad  list  completed,  the  excitement  subsides 
somewhat,  and  the  other  portions  of  the  regular  list  are 
called,  arousing  more  or  less  interest,  according  to  the 
popularity  of  the  stock  or  the  condition  of  the  market. 
Then  the  Free  List  is  in  order,  and  the  members  can 
request  the  Vice-president  to  call  such  securities  as 
they  wish  to  deal  in.  At  the  close  of  the  Free  List 
members  may  ask  for  the  call  of  some  stock  that  has 
been  hurriedly  passed  over  in  the  call  of  the  Regular 
List.  This  completes  the  work  of  the  Board,  and  the 
session  comes  to  an  end.  The  afternoon  session  is  but 
a  repetition  of  the  morning's  proceedings. 

The  Vice-president's  duties  are  very  exacting.  He 
must  watch  the  proceedings  with  the  closest  attention, 
note  every  transaction,  report  it  to  the  Secretary  for 
record,  settle  disputes  between  buyers  and  sellers,  re- 
press all  disorders,  and  punish  all  infractions  of  the 
rules  of  the  Board.  For  the  performance  of  these  duties 
he  receives  a  salary  of  $7000  a  year.  By  his  side  sits 
the  roll  keeper,  whose  business  it  is  to  record  the  fines 
as  they  are  imposed  upon  the  members  by  the  presiding 
officer.  These  fines  are  the  source  of  a  considerable 
revenue  to  the  Exchange.  The  sessions  of  the  Board 
are  always  marked  by  numerous  violations  of  its  rules 
by  members,  for  the  brokers  are  anything  but  a  dig- 
nified or  orderly  body.  The  average  broker  pays  an- 
nually several  hundred  dollars  in  fines,  but  he  consoles 
himself  with  the  reflection  that  the  fine  he  has  paid,  or 
the  objects  he  has  accomplished  by  his  practical  jokes. 


840  NEW  YORK. 

are  worth  tne  money.  A  member  interrupting  the 
presiding  officer  during  a  call  of  stocks  is  fined  not  less 
than  twenty-five  cents  for  each  offence ;  smoking  a 
cigar  in  the  Exchange  is  punished  with  a  fine  of  five 
dollars;  to  be  absent  from  a  special  meeting  is  to  incur 
a  fine  of  not  less  than  five  dollars  ;  standing  on  a  chair 
or  table  costs  one  dollar;  to  throw  a  paper  dart  or 
ball  at  a  member  during  the  session  of  the  Board  is  to 
incur  a'fine  of  ten  dollars;  refusing  to  be  quiet  when 
called  to  order  by  the  presiding  officer,  smashing  a  hat 
over  the  eyes  of  a  member  while  the  Board  is  in  ses- 
sion, and  sundry  other  offences  against  good  order,  are 
punishable  with  fines  ranging  from  twenty-five  cents  to 
ten  dollars.  The  fines  are  charged  against  the  mem- 
bers by  the  roll-keeper,  and  must  be  settled  once  every 
six  months. 

The  Exchange  watches  carefully  over  the  contracts 
made  by  its  members.  Its  transactions  are  all  open 
and  made  in  good  faith,  and  its  members  must  live  up 
to  their  agreements  or  leave  the  Board.  This  is  not 
only  a  protection  to  the  outside  customers  of  the 
brokers,  but  also  a  safeguard  thrown  around  the  mem- 
bers themselves,  as  it  teaches  them  to  be  cautious  in 
their  dealings,  and  to  avoid  risks  that  they  cannot 
meet. 

The  proceedings  of  the  Stock  Board  are  generally 
exciting,  and  often  indescribably  ludicrous.  Yet  often- 
times the  fun  has  a  deliberate  commercial  purpose  be- 
hind it.  A  sudden  crushing  of  the  hat  over  the  eyes 
of  some  active  operator  may  delay  or  change  the 
character  of  an  important  transaction  in  which  the 
offender  is  interested;  a  disturbance  by  a  number  of 


SCENES  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  BOARD.  341 


members  acting  in  concert  will  prevent  bids  or  offers 
from  being  heard  until  it  is  too  late.  In  such  cases  the 
fines  imposed  are  cheerfully  paid,  the  purpose  of  the 
disorder  being  generally  accomplished. 

On  the  second  floor  of  the  Exchange  building  is  a 
handsomely  fitted  up  room  known  as  "The  Govern- 
ment Board."  At  the  head  of  the  chamber  is  a  plat- 
form occupied  by  the  desks  of  the  officials  and  the 
telegraph  instrument,  and  from  this  the  seats  of  the 
members  rise  in  tiers  one  above  another.  This  Board 
is  devoted  exclusively  to  dealings  in  the  bonds  and 
securities  of  the  General  Government.  Its  organizatior/ 
and  mode  of  procedure  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Stock 
Board. 

The  Vice-president  begins: — 
Sixes,  '8 1  registered,  '8i  coupon;  5-20S  '82  regis- 
tered coupon.    What's  bid?" 

Here  and  there  from  flanking  chairs  come  sputter- 
ing bids  or  offers : — 

"Ten  thousand  at  ^,  buyer  three." 
"I'll  give  an      seller  three  for  the  lot." 
buyer  thirty,  for  fifty  thousand." 
%,  regular,  for  any  part  of  five  thousand.'* 
First  Voice, — "Sold,  five  hundred." 
The  presiding  officer  repeats  the  sale  and  term^, 
the  Secretary  makes  his  registry,  and  a  new  bond  \% 
started. 

Sometimes  when  5 -20s  are  called,  at  first  there  is 
only  one  voice,  which  rings  the  changes  on 

"I'll  give  115.  I'll  give  115  for  a  thousand;  '15  for 
a  thousand."  Presently,  however,  before  any  response 
follows  the  offer,  a  member  in  a  distant  corner,  either 


S42 


NEW  YORK. 


carelessly  or  maliciously,  shouts  out,  "I'll  give  '14  for  a 
thousand;  '14  for  a  thousand." 

The  Vice-President  plies  his  hammer:  "Fine  Ir- 
ving— fine  Irving,  fifty  cents."  The  roll  keeper  proceeds 
to  make  his  little  note  of  it,  and  Irving,  who  has 
violated  the  rule,  founded  on  common  sense,  which 
forbids  a  member  making  a  bid  below  or  an  offer 
above  the  one  which  has  the  floor,  immediately  subsides, 
amid  the  laughter  of  his  neighbors. 

Occasionally  an  interruption  of  a  grosser  character 
occurs,  a  member  leaping  from  his  seat  on  some  slight 
provocation,  and  striking  off  the  hat  of  the  man  who 
has  offended.  "Fine  Harrison;  fine  Harrison  again ;" 
''fine,  FINE  him  again."  "Fine  Harrison !"  cries  the  Vice- 
president,  repeating  the  word  without  cessation,  until 
the  broker's  wrath  has  been  appeased  and  he  returns 
to  his  chair  with  the  disagreeable  reflection  that  a 
heavy  score  is  against  him  for  the  semi-annual  settle- 
ment day.  Every  repetition  of  that  fatal  monosyllable 
was  a  fresh  mark  of  fifty  cents  or  a  dollar  against  his 
name.  Generally,  however,  the  Government  brokers 
are  more  orderly  than  their  neighbors  in  the  Regular 
Board.  Indeed,  the  whole  proceedings  are  more 
decorous  and  respectful,  the  bidding,  half  the  time, 
being  carried  on  in  a  low  conversational  tone.  At 
second  call  there  is  a  brief  excitement,  but  when  things 
are  dull  throughout  the  street,  this  room  peculiarly 
reflects  the  external  influences. 

Very  different  it  is,  however,  on  days  when  some 
special  cause  provokes  great  fluctuations.  Then  the 
members  spring  from  their  seats,  arms,  hands,  excitable 
faces,  rapid  vociferations,  all  come  in  play,  and  the  ele- 


♦ 

THE  STOCK  TELEGRAPH. 


343 


ment  oi  pantomime  performs  its  part  in  assisting  the 
human  voice  as  naturally  as  among  the  Italians  of  Syra- 
cuse. To  the  uninitiated  the  biddings  here  are  as  unin- 
telligible as  elsewhere,  sounding  to  ordinary  ears  like 
the  gibberish  of  Victor  Hugo's  Compachinos.  But 
the  comparative  quietude  of  this  Board  renders  it 
easier  to  follow  the  course  of  the  market,  to  detect  the 
shades  of  difference  in  the  running  offers,  and  gener- 
ally to  get  a  clearer  conception  of  this  part  of  the 
machinery  of  stock  brokerage. 

In  the  basement  beneath  the  room  of  the  Govern- 
ment  Board  is  a  large  vault  containing  6i8  small  safes,, 
arranged  in  three  tiers.  Each  safe  is  a  foot  and  a 
half  square,  and  is  rented  by  one  of  the  brokers,  who 
deposits  in  it  for  safe  keeping,  when  the  Board  is  not  ia 
session,  a  tin  box  containing  his  bonds  and  securities. 
It  is  said  that  the  aggregate  value  of  the  securities 
kept  here  is  over  two  hundred  millions  of  dollars.  The 
vault  is  guarded  day  and  night  by  four  policemen  spe- 
cially detailed  for  that  purpose. 

The  telegraph  has  very  greatly  simplified  the  busi-^ 
ness  of  Wall  street,  and  considerably  lessened  its 
expense  in  one  respect.  Previous  to  the  introduction 
of  the  present  system,  the  brokers  were  compelled  to 
employ  numbers  of  messengers  to  carry  news  of  the 
transactions  of  the  Exchange  to  their  offices,  and  where 
time  was  of  importance  large  sums  were  spent  in  cab 
hire.  The  introduction  of  the  Stock  Telegraph  has 
changed  all  this.  Every  broker's  office,  all  the  princi- 
pal hotels,  restaurants,  and  bar  rooms  now  contain 
an  automatic  recording  instrument,  connected  by  tele- 
graph wires  with  the  instruments  in  the  various  Boards 


344 


NEW  YORK. 


at  the  Stock  Exchange.  The  operatoi  at  the  Exchange 
registers  the  quotations  as  they  are  i/iade  on  his  own 
instrument,  and  instantly  they  are  repeated  on  every 
instrument  in  the  city,  the  instruments  printing  the  quo- 
tations in  plain  Roman  letters  and  figures  on  a  narrow 
ribbon  of  paper,  where  they  can  be  easily  read. 
Almost  by  the  time  the  transactions  of  the  Exchange 
are  written  down  by  the  clerk  at  the  blackboard  they 
are  known  at  every  point  in  the  city  where  a  recording 
instrument  is  located.  Thus  both  time  and  money  are 
jsaved  by  this  ingenious  invention. 

The  life  of  a  stock  broker  is  one  of  constant  excite^ 
7iient.  Stocks  go  up  and  down  so  rapidly,  so  many 
changes  occur,  that  he  must  be  continually  on  the  alert, 
watching  the  market  eagerly,  to  take  advantage  of  a 
lucky  rise,  or  to  guard  against  the  mishaps  of  an  unex- 
pected decline.  It  is  a  wearying,  wearing  existence, 
and  it  is  no  wonder  that  in  their  amusements  the 
brokers  should  be  rather  boisterous,  or  that  they 
should  seek  to  enliven  the  sometimes  dull  proceedings 
of  the  Boards  with  a  bit  of  fun.  The  1 5th  of  September 
h  known  as  "White  Hat  Day,"  and  is  rigidly  observed 
at  the  Exchange.  Woe  to  the  unfortunate  broker  who 
ventures  to  put  in  an  appearance  on  that  day  with  a 
straw  or  summer  hat.  It  is  ruthlessly  knocked  from 
his  head,  and  the  next  moment  the  members  are  busy 
playing  football  with  it. 

III. 

THE  CLEARING  HOUSE. 

The  Clearing  House  Association  occupies  a  hand- 
some building,  erected  for  its  purposes,  at  No.  14  Pine 


WORK  OF  THE  CLEARING  HOUSE. 


345 


street,  and  owned  by  the  Association.  It  is  the  medium 
through  which  the  city  banks  exchange  the  bills  and 
checks  which  each  holds  against  all  the  others  for  "the 
amount  which  all  the  others  hold  against  it.  The  As- 
sociation was  organized  in  October,  1853,  and  now 
numbers  as  members  fifty-nine  banks,  representing  a 
capital  of  about  $50,000,000. 

The  principal  room  is  fitted  up  with  handsome  coun- 
ters and  desks  for  the  officials.  On  the  counters  are 
placed  fifty-nine  desks,  one  for  each  bank  belonging 
to  the  Association,  each  desk  being  marked  with  the 
name  of  the  bank  to  which  it  belongs.  The  desks  all 
contain  fifty-nine  pigeon-holes,  each  pigeon  hole  being 
marked  with  the  name  of  the  bank  whose  checks  it 
contains.  Each  bank  is  represented  by  two  clerks,  one 
of  whom  remains  at  the  desk,  receives  all  the  checks 
on  his  bank,  and  signs  the  name  of  his  bank  to  the 
sheet  which  the  clerks  of  the  other  banks  present  to 
him  upon  delivering  his  checks.  The  second  clerk 
goes  from  desk  to  desk,  and  leaves  with  the  banks  on 
which  they  are  drawn  all  the  checks  drawn  upon  them, 
deposited  in  his  own  bank  on  the  previous  day,  and 
takes  the  receipts  for  the  delivery  of  such  checks.  The 
city,  banks  do  not  open  their  doors  for  business  until 
ten  o'clock,  but  the  clerks  are  required  to  be  on  duty 
by  eight,  in  order  to  arrange  the  checks  collected  on 
the  previous  day  for  delivery  at  the  Clearing  House. 

At  ten  minutes  to  ten  the  bank  messengers  enter, 
and  commence  to  take  their  places  at  the  desks.  As 
they  come  into  the  hall  they  hand  to  an  official  on  duty 
at  the  door  a  paper  containing  the  exact  account  of  the 
bank  they  represent.    These  statements  are  transferred 


346 


NEW  YORK. 


to  a  sheet  prepared  for  that  purpose  by  the  Clearing 
House  clerks,  and  must  agree  precisely  with  the  checks 
received  inside  before  the  Clearing  House  closes  its 
duties.  If  any  error  or  discrepancy  is  discovered,  the 
bank  at  fault  is  at  once  informed  by  telegraph,  and  its 
messenger  is  not  permitted  to  leave  the  Clearing 
House  until  the  mistake  is  corrected.  The  Manager 
of  the  establishment  sits  at  a  high  desk  on  the  side  of 
the  room  nearest  his  private  office,  from  which  he  can 
command  a  full  view  of  all  that  is  going  on  in  the  haik 
At  ten  o'clock  precisely  he  brings  down  his  gavel,  and 
opens  the  work  of  the  day.  The  most  perfect  order 
and  quiet  are  preserved.  No  loud  talking  or  calling 
is  permitted.  A  late  bank  is  fined  two  dollars.  A 
messenger  violating  any  of  the  rules  of  the  establish- 
ment is  fined  the  same  sum,  and  is  reported  to  his 
bank.  Should  he  repeat  the  offence  he  is  expelled  the 
Clearing  House. 

''The  daily  transactions  of  the  Clearing  House  vary 
from  $65,000,000  to  $100,000,000.  The  system  is  so 
nicely  balanced  that  three  millions  daily  settle  the  dif- 
ference. Each  bank  indebted  to  the  Clearing  Ho.us<& 
must  send  in  its  check  before  half  after  one.  Creditors 
get  the  Clearing  House  check  at  the  same  hour.  Daily 
business  is  squared  and  all  accounts  closed  at  half 
after  three.  Every  bank  in  the  city  is  connected  with 
the  Clearing  House  by  telegraph.  The  morning  work 
of  clearing  one  hundred  millions  occupies  ten  minutes. 
Long  before  the  clerks  can  reach  the  bank,  its  officials 
are  acquainted  with  the  exact  state  of  their  account, 
and  know  what  loans  to  grant  or  refuse.  Through 
the  Clearing  House  each  bank  is  connected  with  every 


ENORMOUS  FINANCIAL  TRANSACTIONS, 


347 


other  in  the  city.  If  a  doubtful  check  is  presented,  if 
paper,  to  be  negotiated*  is  not  exactly  clear,  while  the 
party  offering  the  paper  or  check  is  entertained  by  some 
member  of  the  bank,  the  telegraph  is  making  minute 
inquiries  about  his  financial  standing.  Before  the  con- 
ference closes,  the  bank  knows  the  exact  facts  of  the 
case." 

The  amount  of  the  transactions  of  the  Clearing 
House  on  the  day  it  opened,  October  nth,  1853,  was 
$23,938,682.25,  Its  total  annual  transactions  now 
amount  to  about  $24,000,000,000.  The  largest  amount 
for  any  one  day  since  the  organization,  was  $206,034, 
920.50,  on  November  17th,  1869.  The  largest  balance 
paid  to  any  bank  was  $10,585,471.31,  on  November 
1 7th,  1869,  and  the  largest  balance  paid  to  the  Clearing 
House  by  any  bank  was  $4,774,039.59,  on  the  5th  of 
April,  1872.  The  operations  of  this  Clearing  House 
amount  to  over  65  per  cent,  of  the  total  exchanges  of 
the  twenty-three  Clearing  Houses  of  the  United  States, 
and  thus  represent,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  magnitude 
of  the  daily  business  of  the  country  at  large.  It  is  the 
boast  of  the  Association  that  in  spite  of  its  enormous 
transactions,  "no  error  or  difference  of  any  kind  exists 
in  any  of  its  records;"  and  no  bank  belonging  to  the 
Association  has  "sustained  any  loss  by  the  failure  of  any 
bank  or  otherwise  while  a  member." 

IV. 

THE  CURBSTONE  BROKERS. 

If  the  operations  of  Wall  street  were  confined  to  the 
dealings  of  the  members  of  the  Regular  Boards  of  the 
Stock  Exchange,  the  business  of  the  street  would  be 


348 


NEW  YORK. 


always  conducted  legitimately  and  safely.  But  a  large 
portion  of  these  operations  is  in  the  hands  of  an  en- 
tirely different  set  of  men.  The  transactions  of  the 
Long  Room  far  exceed  those  of  the  Regular  Boards, 
and,  as  has  been  said,  these  are  governed  by  no  fixed 
laws.  Men  must  look  out  for  themselves  when  dealing 
with  the  frequenters  of  this  room.  Still  another  class 
of  operators  exist.  These  cannot  obtain  admission 
to  either  the  Exchange  or  the  Long  Room,  and  so  they 
crowd  about  the  doors  of  the  Exchange,  fill  the  side- 
walks, and  overflow  into  the  street.  They  require 
neither  office  nor  capital  for  their  operations.  They 
do  business  in  the  open  air,  and  carry  their  capital  in 
their  heads,  or  in  their  pocket-books.  They  are  known 
as  "  Curbstone  Brokers,"  and  are  among  the  sharpest 
and  most  unscrupulous  operators  on  the  street.  The 
only  law  that  binds  them  in  their  dealings  is  that  of 
"  honor  among  thieves,"  and  they  are  often  oblivious 
to  that  obligation.  So  numerous  are  they,  and  so  ex- 
tensive and  far-reaching  are  their  operations,  that  in 
times  of  excitement  and  distrust  the  combined  power 
of  the  Long  Room  and  the  Curbstone  has  made  even 
the  Regular  Boards  tremble.  They  are  men  of  the 
coolest  effrontery,  and  of  the  most  unflinching  nerve. 
They  know  that  fortune  is  even  more  fickle  on  the 
Curbstone  than  in  the  gorgeous  Exchange,  and  they 
are  always  on  the  alert  to  profit  by  every  chance  that 
comes  in  their  way.  They  are  gamblers,  pure  and  un~ 
defiled,  and  are  merciless  toward  those  who  fall  into 
their  clutches.  They  have  nothing  to  lose,  and  every- 
thing to  gain ;  and  as  for  compelling  them  to  stand  by 
an  unfavorable  contract,  why,  he  would  be  a  wise  man 


RECKLESS  SPECULATION  IN  STOCKS. 


34^ 


indeed  who  could  discover  the  means  of  accompHshing; 
this  feat.  It  is  said  that  the  daily  operations  of  the 
Long  Room  sometimes  reach  the  startling  figure  of 
^70,000,000,  but  there  is  no  means  of  ascertaining  the 
amount  of  the  dealinors  of  the  Curbstone.    That  it  is> 

o 

enormous,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 

V. 

SPECULATIONS  IN  STOCKS. 

In  former  years  Wall  street  did  a  strictly  legitimate 
business.  Stocks  were  bought  and  sold  on  commis- 
)sion,  and  the  broker  was  satisfied  with  his  percentage 
on  his  transactions.  He  took  no  risk,  and  was  in  no 
danger  of  losing  anything.  Now-a-days  a  different 
/State  of  affairs  prevails.  So  great  is  the  race  for 
wealth,  that  many  reputable  houses  not  only  buy  and 
jiell  on  commission,  but  speculate  largely  on  their  own 
account,  taking  all  the  chances  of  profit  and  loss. 
With  such  houses  all  is  uncertainty.  They  may,  by 
Wcky  ventures,  reap  large  gains,  but  they  are  liable  all 
the  while  to  the  losses  caused  by  an  unfavorable  mar- 
ket, or  a  sudden  crash  in  the  securities  they  are  oper- 
ating in.  No  firm  that  does  not  confine  itself  strictly 
to  a  commission  business  can  tell  exactly  from  day  to 
day  where  it  stands.  It  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  market, 
and  though  prosperous  at  the  opening  of  the  day,  the 
close  may  find  it  bankrupt. 

The  mania  for  speculation  in  stocks  may  be  said  to 
date  from  the  close  of  the  war.  Then  everything  was 
in  the  flush  tide  of  prosperity.  Money  was  plentiful, 
and  easy  to  be  had,  and  men  were  led  to  engage  in 
speculative  ventures  who,  in  former  years,  would  have 


S50 


NEW  YORK. 


laughed  to  scorn  the  idea  of  their  taking  such  risks. 
The  petroleum  discoveries  added  fuel  to  the  passion  for 
stock  gambling.  Securities  of  all  kinds  were  dealt  in 
with  a  recklessness  that  made  the  wiser  heads  of  the 
street  tremble  for  the  future  of  the  country.  It  was 
useless  to  offer  advice,  however.  A.  had  amassed  a 
fortune  by  some  lucky  speculation  in  Wall  street,  and 
B.  was  sure  that  he  would  be  equally  fortunate.  What 
money  he  could  raise  was  devoted  to  stock  gambling. 
Often  these  ventures  were  successful,  but  very  fre- 
quently they  resulted  in  loss.  Since  those  days  the 
evil  has  grown,  and  has  spread  throughout  the  country. 
Men  and  women  in  all  parts  of  the  Union  have  their 
brokers  in  New  York,  who  operate  for  them  in  their 
favorite  stocks.  Everybody  longs  for  speedy  and  great 
wealth,  and  it  seems  so  easy  to  find  it  in  Wall  street. 
Many  win  in  the  golden  game,  but  many  more  lose 
their  all.  Nine  out  of  ten  who  thus  risk  their  money 
are  ignorant  of  the  street  and  its  ways,  and  rely  simply 
on  the  good  faith  and  sound  judgment  of  their  brokers. 
But  even  if  the  broker  is  a  model  of  honesty  and  busi- 
ness capacity,  he  cannot  command  success  for  his 
clients ;  he  and  they  must  take  the  chances  of  the 
market.  They  are  playing  an  uncertain  game.  A 
sudden  rise  in  the  market  may  bring  them  wealth,  or 
an  unexpected  depression  may  consign  them  to  pov- 
erty. The  only  safe  way  for  those  who  wish  to  get 
money  is  to  keep  out  of  Wall  street,  and  seek  a  more 
legitimate  and  slower  way  of  becoming  rich.  But,  alas, 
like  other  forms  of  gambling,  stock  gambling  holds  its 
victims  with  a  fearful  power.  They  lose  once,  and 
venture  again,  but  think  that  there  must  surely  be  a 


FORTUNES  IN  WALL  STREET. 


351 


turn  in  the  tide,  and  so  they  go  on  until  they  have 
nothing  more  to  risk. 

If  fortunes  are  quickly  made  in  Wall  street  they  are 
Jost  there  with  even  greater  rapidity.  You  may  see 
men  in  rags,  so  wretched  that  the  Police  Station  is 
their  lodging  and  the  bread  of  charity  their  only  sub- 
sistence, hanging  about  their  old  haunts  in  the  street, 
watching  the  operators  with  wistful  eyes,  who  were 
once  high  in  the  favor  of  the  Exchange,  and  possessed 
of  wealth  and  good  commercial  standing.  They  were 
ruined  by  stock  gambling.  Once  they  had  palatial 
mansions  on  Fifth  avenue,  and  were  the  favorites  of 
fortune.  Now  they  have  no  future,  no  hope.  They 
have  not  the  moral  courage,  even  if  they  had  the  oppor- 
tunity, to  seek  to  regain  their  former  positions.  They 
have  fallen  never  to  rise  again. 

The  best  and  most  reputable  firms  in  the  street 
never  speculate  on  their  own  account.  They  buy  and. 
sell  on  commission,  and  their  only  speculative  dealings 
are  for  their  customers.  They  take  care  in  such  casea 
to  be  protected  by  liberal  "margins,"  which  secure*, 
them  against  all  possibility'  of  loss. 

All  sorts  of  people  come  into  the  street  to  tempt 
fortune,  and  the  brokers  could  tell  some  queer  tales  of 
their  customers  did  they  see  fit  to  do  so.  When  a 
person  wishes  to  speculate  in  stocks,  it  is  not  necessary 
for  him  to  buy  the  securities  outright,  though  that  is 
by  far  the  safer  way  in  dealing  with  first-class  stocks. 
If  he  can  satisfy  the  broker  that  he  is  a  responsible 
person,  he  will  be  allowed  to  begin  operations  by  pay- 
ing down  only  ten  per  cent,  of  the  value  of  the  securities 
he  wishes  to  deal  in.    Thus  with  $1000  he  may  buy 


352 


NEW  YORK. 


1 0,000  worth  of  stocks.  This  percentage  is  called  a 
margin,  and  the  deposit  of  it  is  required  to  protect  the 
broker  from  loss  in  case  the  stock  should  fall  in  value. 
If  the  stock  advances  the  broker  sells,  and  his  customer 
makes  a  profit,  out  of  which  he  must  pay  the  broker  his 
commission;  if,  however,  the  stock  depreciates  in  value, 
the  customer  must  either  sell  out  at  once,  and  bear  the 
loss  that  attends  the  decline,  or  he  must  increase  his 
margin  to  an  extent  sufficient  to  protect  his  broker 
should  he  decide  to  hold  the  security  in  hope  of  a  turn 
of  the  market. 

Of  late  years  the  control  of  the  stock  market  has 
become  centred  in  the  hands  of  a  few  capitalists  of 
enormous  wealth.  They  move  the  market  as  they 
please,  and  their  combined  efforts  will  send  stocks  up 
or  down,  as  they  wish.  They  could  ruin  the  whole  street 
should  they  see  fit  to  do  so.  That,  however,  would  not 
be  to  their  interest,  so  they  content  themselves  with 
less  sweeping  operations,  and  on  great  "field  days"  in 
Wall  street  they  fill  their  coffers  remorselessly,  at  the 
expense  of  the  smaller  operators,  scores  of  whom  they 
coolly  consign  to  ruin.  Consequently  these  great  oper- 
ators are  the  objects  of  the  most  cordial  hatred  of  the 
brokers  in  the  street. 

VI. 

STOCK  SWINDLERS. 

If  Wall  street  is  the  home  of  legitimate  and  honor- 
able enterprises,  it  is  also  a  chosen  centre  from  which 
the  worst  of  swindlers  conduct  their  operations.  From 
time  to  time  advertisements  appear  in  the  city  dailies 
and  in  the  newspapers  throughout  the  Union,  announc- 


BOGUS  STOCK  CIRCULARS. 


353 


ing  that  such  and  such  a  firm,  the  name  of  which  is 
given,  is  prepared  to  receive  small  orders  for  the  pur- 
chase and  sale  of  stocks  on  the  "Combination  Sys- 
tem," and  guaranteeing  large  profits  to  all  persons 
sending  the  firm  their  orders  accompanied  with  remit- 
tances of  from  $io  upward.  These  firms  announce 
that  they  have  peculiar  facilities  for  operating  in  the 
stock  market,  and  that  their  system  is  so  nicely  ar- 
ranged that  persons  entrusting  them  with  their  orders 
^annot  fail  to  receive  a  large  return  upon  their  invest- 
ments. Money  may  be  sent  by  express,  or  by  postal 
order  or  registered  letter. 

•  The  country  is  flooded  with  these  advertisements. 
The  religious  press  teems  with  them,  and  not  long  since 
several  of  the  leading  religious  weeklies  warmly  en- 
dorsed a  combination  scheme,  and  commended  it  to 
their  subscribers.  This  particular  scheme  turned  out 
to  be  one  of  the  most  barefaced  swindles  ever  attempted 
in  New  York,  and  was  broken  up  by  the  refusal  of  the 
postal  authorities  of  the  United  States  to  allow  its  pro- 
prietors to  use  the  mails  for  their  nefarious  business. 
It  was  proven  that  the  names  appended  to  the  adver- 
tisements were  bogus,  and  that  all  the  various  schemes 
of  the  kind  at  that  time  in  operation  in  New  York 
were  owned  and  operated  by  one  man;  that  no  actual 
operations  of  any  kind  were  conducted  by  him  in  the 
stock  market,  and  that  he  coolly  pocketed  all  the  remit- 
tances sent  to  him,  without  any  intention  of  making  a 
return  of  any  description  to  the  senders. 

These  advertisements  do  their  work  well.  There 
are  always  men  and  women  ready  to  be  caught  by 
cheap  promises  of  sudden  wealth,  or  handsome  profits 

23 


354 


NEW  YORK. 


on  small  investments.  From  all  parts  of  the  Union 
money  is  sent  to  the  bogus  bankers,  who  pocket  it,  and 
laugh  at  the  innocence  of  their  victims.  Their  mails 
are  among  the  largest  received  at  the  New  York  Post 
Office,  and  every  letter  contains  a  remittance. 

A  little  more  than  a  year  ago  the  attention  of  the 
postal  authorities  of  New  York  was  called  to  the  opera- 
tions of  the  bogus  bankers.  The  matter  was  referred 
to  the  Postmaster  General  at  Washington,  and  a  spe- 
cial agent  was  detailed  to  investigate  it,  and  in  his  efforts 
he  was  cordially  assisted  by  the  officials  of  the  New 
York  Stock  Exchange,  who  were  anxious  to  break  up 
the  infamous  business.  The  investigations  of  the 
agent  were  directed  towards  several  firms  doing  busi- 
ness under  the  following  names:  "Lawrence  &  Co.," 
19  Broad  street;  "Adams,  Brown  &  Co.,"  28  Broad 
street;  "Allen,  Jordan  &  Co.,"  54  Wall  street;  and 
"Barnes,  Gibson  &  Co.,"  11  Broad  street  and  55  Ex- 
change Place.  The  investigation  was  thorough  and 
satisfactory,  and  resulted  in  obtaining  such  conclusive 
evidence  that  the  Postmaster  General  issued  an  order 
forbidding  the  Postmaster  at  New  York  to  pay  postal 
orders  or  to  deliver  registered  letters  to  any  of  these 
firms. 

It  was  ascertained  by  the  special  agent  that  all  of  the 
above  named  firms  were  bogus,  and  that  they  were  all 
the  property  of  one  man,  whom  we  shall  term  the  pro- 
prietor, who  had  obtained  control  of  them  by  recording, 
under  the  laws  of  the  State  of  New  York,  fictitious 
articles  of  partnership.  In  order  to  carry  on  the  busi- 
ness, he  made  an  arrangement  with  two  men,  who  were, 
to  assume  the  direct  management  of  the  various  firms. 


HOW  STOCK  SWINDLES  ARE  CONDUCTED.  355 


They  agreed  to  pay  the  proprietor  the  sum  of  $12,500 
a  month,  or  $150,000  per  annum,  for  the  net  receipts 
of  the  single  firm  of  Lawrence  &  Co.,"  and  an  equal 
amount  for  the  privilege  of  transacting  business  under 
two  of  the  other  bogus  firm  names.  The  interests  of 
the  proprietor  were  guarded  by  his  having  confidential 
agents  to  be  present  at  the  opening  of  the  letters  con- 
taininof  remittances.  These  letters  came  in  at  such  a 
rate  as  to  make  the  profits  of  "Lawrence  &  Co." 
alone,  for  nine  months,  from  March  ist  to  December 
1st,  1879,  from  $17,500  to  $20,000  per  month,  after 
paying  all  expenses,  inclusive  of  ver}^  extensive  adver- 
tising,  and  salaries  of  $100  a  week  to  each  of  the  two 
men  employed  by  the  proprietor.  The  profits  of  the 
other  bogus  firms  were  in  proportion. 

Now,  this  is  no  exaggerated  story.  The  facts  are 
given  as  stated  by  the  special  agent  of  the  Post  Oillice 
Department ;  they  are  known  to  the  Post  Office  au- 
thorities at  Washington  and  New  York,  and  to  the 
officials  of  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange,  who  can 
vouch  for  their  truthfulness. 

Schemes  of  this  kind  appear  from  time  to  time. 
The  authorities  discover  them,  and  break  them  up,  but 
in  a  little  while  others,  under  new  names,  take  their 
places,  and  when  investigated,  are  generally  found  to 
be  in  the  hands  of  the  old  offenders. 

The  manner  in  which  these  bogus  bankers,  stock 
swindlers,  or  whatever  one  may  choose  to  term  them, 
conduct  their  operations,  is  very  simple.  They  send 
out  their  advertisements,  which  appear  in  thousands 
of  newspapers  throughout  the  Union.  Thousands  of 
foolish  people  are  attracted  by  them,  and  either  at  once 


356 


NEW  YORK. 


send  their  remittances,  or  write  for  further  informa- 
tion. In  return,  circulars  are  sent  to  parties  making 
inquiry,  setting  forth  the  merits  of  the  "  Combination 
Scheme,*'  and  showing  how  even  so  small  a  sum  as  ten 
dollars  can  be  used  to  advantage  in  the  great  oper- 
ations of  Wall  street.  "By  combining  your  money  with 
somebody  else's,"  says  the  circular,  "  the  probabilities 
of  profit  are  far  greater  than  by  any  other  system, 
while  the  risk  is  diminished  to  the  very  lowest  point 
and  limited  to  the  amount  invested.  Each  customer 
has  exact  justice,  and  at  the  same  time  obtains  all  the 
advantages  of  the  largest  capitalist.  By  the  combina- 
tion system  we  concentrate  our  whole  energies  and 
capital  on  the  most  attractive  stocks;  keep  the  market 
well  in  hand ;  buy  and  sell  at  any  hour ;  make  quick 
turns ;  cover  sales ;  and,  above  all,  succeed,  when 
others  fail,  from  force  of  circumstances." 

To  the  man  or  woman  bent  on  making  a  successful 
venture  in  stocks,  this  seems  perfectly  clear,  honest 
and  above-board.  The  money  is  sent,  and  the  return 
mail  brings  the  sender  a  certificate  of  ownership  of  so 
many  shares  of  stock  in  the  "  Combination  Scheme." 
The  firm  promises  to  make  a  weekly  report  of  its 
operations,  and  at  the  end  of  one  month  to  close  the 
combination  and  divide  its  profits,  pro-rata,  among  the 
shareholders.  It  expressly  stipulates,  however,  that 
no  part  of  the  profits  or  capital  shall  be  withdrawn 
until  the  close  of  the  combination.  The  certificate  is 
accompanied  by  a  pamphlet,  containing  testimonials 
(all  bogus)  from  persons  who  have  been  benefited  by 
the  system;  some  showing  how  the  writers  have  been 
saved  from  financial  ruin  by  the  investment  of  one 


THE  BUBBLE  BURSTS. 


357 


hundred  dollars  in  the  combined  scheme,  and  all  tes- 
tifying their  delight  at  the  immense  profits  realized 
from  small  investments,  and  thanking  the  firm  for  the 
fair  and  honorable  way  in  which  they  have  been 
treated. 

In  about  a  week  or  ten  days  a  printed  report  is  re- 
ceived by  the  certificate-holder,  showing  a  handsome 
profit  on  the  first  week's  transactions — the  profit  being 
generally  about  twenty-five  per  cent.  The  innocent 
victim  is  delighted.  Surely  he  is  on  the  royal  road  to 
wealth  at  last.  Another  week  passes,  and  a  second 
report  is  received,  showing  that  the  fortunate  investor 
has  gained  fifty  per  cent,  on  his  investment.  This  re- 
port is  accompanied  by  a  letter  or  circular,  setting  forth 
the  merits  of  a  new  combination  scheme,  just  forming, 
and  urging  the  victim  to  send  one  hundred  dollars,  or 
as  much  as  he  feels  justified  in  risking,  in  order  to  par- 
ticipate in  its  benefits.  A  large  percentage  of  those 
receiving  such  circulars,  delighted  with  the  reports  of 
their  first  venture,  make  a  second  investment.  The 
third  week  arrives,  and  with  it  comes  another  letter,  or 
circular,  from  the  managers  of  the  combined  scheme. 
The  victim  opens  it  exultingly,  but  he  has  not  read 
much  of  the  communication  before  his  hair  begins  to 
stand  on  end.  The  managers  inform  him,  "with  great 
regret,"  that  they  have  no  profits  to  report  this  week  ; 
that  owing  to  the  ''unprecedented  haste  that  had 
marked  the  efforts  of  a  large  number  of  sniall  specu- 
lators to  get  rid  of  their  holdings,"  the  market  had  be- 
come completely  demoralized,  and  the  great  operators 
bewildered.  "A  decline  had  been  precipitated,"  they 
add,  "that  obliged  us  to  make  great  personal  sacri- 


358 


NEW  YORK. 


fices,  in  order  to  protect  our  patrons  ;  and,  although- 
we  have  lived  through  the  storm,  we  were  obliged, 
most  reluctantly,  to  witness  the  destruction  of  many  a 
well-conceived  and  judiciously-executed  combination." 

The  victim  is  now  seriously  alarmed,  not  only  for  the 
fate  of  his  first  investment  and  its  fifty  per  cent,  profits, 
but  also  for  the  second,  from  which  he  has,  as  yet, 
heard  nothing.  He  sits  down  and  writes  to  the  mana- 
gers, directing  them  to  close  his  account,  and  forward 
liim  the  amount  sent  them,  with  the  profits  to  date,  less 
their  percentage.  In  reply  he  receives  a  few  curt 
lines,  calling  his  attention  to  the  "contract"  they  sent 
him  at  the  time  they  received  his  money,  wherein  it  was 
stated  that  "no  part  of  profits  or  original  capital  is  to 
be  withdrawn  until  the  close  of  the  combination."  In 
other  words,  he  is  bluntly  told  that  he  has  no  control 
over  the  investment.  For  the  next  week  the  victim 
lives  in  suspense.  Then  comes  the  end.  A  circular  is 
received  from  the  managers,  announcing  the  failure  of 
the  combination  and  the  loss  of  all  the  money  and  all 
the  profits.  A  melancholy  preface  alludes  to  a  das- 
tardly conspiracy  headed  by  Jay  Gould  and  some  other 
well  known  speculators,  which  had  so  knocked  the 
market  to  pieces  that  thousands  had  been  ruined.  In 
spite  of  their  best  efforts,  say  the  managers,  the  com- 
bination has  gone  down  with  the  rest,  and  they  have 
suffered  terrible  losses  themselves.  "Trusting  to 
appearances,"  they  continue,  "well  calculated  to  deceive 
the  most  experienced  veteran  on  'change,'  we,  unfortu- 
nately, were  caught  in  the  same  dreadful  storm  that 
has  proved  so  fatal  to  many  of  the  best  known  men  on 
the  street." 


A  WARNING  TO  PETTY   STOCK  GAMBLERS. 


359 


It  is  all  over,  the  investor's  dreams  of  wealth  are 
rudely  broken,  and  he  must  get  over  his  disappoint- 
ment the  best  wa)'  he  can.  This  is  not  the  end  of  it, 
however.  In  a  few  days  he  receives  a  letter  from  the 
managers  asking  another  investment,  and  promising  a 
return  in  thirty  days  that  will  more  than  compensate 
him  for  his  previous  loss.  Strange  to  say,  so  ratal  is 
the  influence  of  stock  gambling,  thousands  respond  to 
this  impudent  request,  and  send  their  money,  to  be 
H    swindled  a  second  time. 

Pamphlets,  circulars,  and  other  publications  are  sent 
out  through  the  country  by  the  bogus  bankers ;  the 
mails  are  burdened  with  tons  of  this  matter,  which  is 
scattered  broadcast  throughout  the  land.  Clergymen, 
country  merchants,  lawyers,  mechanics,  everybody  who 
is  supposed  to  be  able  to  raise  ten  dollars,  are  plied 
with  these  printed  appeals  to  try  the  wonderful  combi^ 
nation  system,  and  thousands  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  respond.  None  of  these  dupes  ever  receive  a 
cent  either  of  the  money  invested  or  of  profits.  They 
are  simply  fleeced.  It  is  strange,  but  true,  that  men 
who  in  ordinary  business  transactions  are  regarded  as 
sharp  and  shrewd,  and  not  easily  taken  in,  yield  by 
thousands  to  the  temptations  of  the  stock  swindlers, 
and  risk  their  money  as  readily  as  the  veriest  green- 
horn that  ever  lived. 

Be  warned,  O!  reader  of  these  pages.  What  we 
have  written  is  true,  and  carries  its  moral  with  it  If 
you  want  money,  2uork  for  it.  Keep  out  of  Wall 
street,  and  have  nothing  to  do  with  bankers  and  bro- 
kers who  send  you  circulars  and  solicit  your  patron- 
age in  combination  or  other  ventures. 


360 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ALONG   THE  WHARVES. 
tmarcHBo  charactbr  o"f  the  wharves— plan  for  a  new  system — the  north  nmat 

FRONT — THE  RAILROAD  PIERS— THE  FERRY  HOUSES — THE  FOREIGN  STEAMSHIPS — TH« 
FLOATING  PALACES  OF  THE  HUDSON  AND  LONG  ISLAND  SOUND — THE  BETHEL — THE  BOAT 
STORES — THR  GRAIN  ELEVATORS — THE  EAST  RIVER  FRONT — SAILING  VESSELS — THE  SHIP 
-  -  YARDS — THE  DRY  DOCKS — THE  CANAL  BOATS — SCENES  ON  BOARD — THE  FRUIT  TRADE — THE 
FISH  MARKET — SCENES  ALONG  THE  WHARVES — ACCIDENTS— THE  RESCUE  STATIONS — THE 
VOLUNTEER  LIFE-SAVING  CORPS—"  NAN,  THE  LIFE  SAVER." 

To  the  stranger  the  shores  of  the  North  and  East 
Rivers  present  one  of  the  most  attractive  scenes  to  be 
witnessed  in  the  city.  The  wharves  extend,  in  an  un- 
broken line,  along  almost  the  entire  water  front  of  the 
city.  They  are,  as  a  rule,  wretched-looking  piers  of 
wood,  thrown  out  into  the  water,  and  covered  over 
with  dilapidated  sheds.  The  ferry-houses  and  the 
sheds  of  the  great  railway  and  steamship  lines  are  well 
built,  and  often  handsome  structures,  but  they  are  the 
only  respectable-looking  buildings  along  the  shore.  It 
is  hoped  that  at  some  future  day  the  present  system 
of  piers  will  be  replaced  with  substantial  and  handsome 
structures  of  granite  and  iron,  which  will  enable  New 
York  to  compete  favorably  with  Liverpool  and  its 
other  great  rivals  of  Europe. 

Beginning  at  the  Battery,  the  North  River  front  is 
taken  up  for  some  distance  with  the  piers  of  the  Penn- 
sylvania Railroad,  and  several  lines  of  steamers  plying 
to  ports  on  the  coast  of  the  United  States.  Above 
these  are  the  ferry-houses  of  the  New  Jersey  Central 
^nd  the  Pennsylvania  Railroads,  and  at  intervals  higher 


i 


OCEAN  STEAMSHIPS. 


361 


up  the  river  are  other  piers  and  the  up-town  ferry  of 
the  Pennsylvania  road,  the  Pavonia  and  Erie  Railroad 
ferry,  the  ferries  to  Hoboken  and  \V eehawken,  and  the 
freight  piers  of  the  other  lines  of  railroads  terminating 
in  Jersey  City.  All  the  great  traffic  and  travel  between 
New  York  and  the  South,  and  a  large  part  of  that  to 
and  from  the  West,  enter  and  leave  the  city  by  the 
North  River  front.  The  foreign  steamships  lie  thickly 
along  this  portion  of  the  river.  Here  are  the  great 
floating  palaces  of  the  Pacific  Mail  Company,  the  In- 


man,  White  Star,  National,  State,  Cunard,  Anchor,  and 
Guion  lines,  which  are  constantly  arriving  and  depart- 
ing, bringing  thousands  of  tourists  and  emigrants,  and 
rich  cargoes  from  far-off  lands.  "  European  steamers 
leave  and  arrive  at  the  port  of  New  York  daily,  some- 
times half  a  dozen  in  a  single  day ;  and  in  addition  to 
these  great  ships  that  ply  over  tlie  ocean  ferry  to  Eu- 

i 


« 


362 


NEW  YORK. 


rope,  there  are  lines  to  South  and  Central  America, 
/the  West  Indies,  the  Windward  Islands,  to  Florida, 
New  Orleans,  Texas,  Mexico,  Cuba,  and  various  other 
foreign  and  domestic  destinations.  An  ocean  steamer 
is  a  vast  floating  hotel,  where  rich  and  poor  find  ac- 
commodations suited  to  their  means  and  their  tastes. 
When  one  of  these  great  vessels,  decked  with  flags, 
and  crowded  with  people  on  its  decks  waving  hand- 
kerchiefs to  their  friends  ashore,  moves  out  of  the 
dock,  it  is  one  of  the  most  striking  and  suggestive 
scenes  to  be  witnessed  on  the  water  front  of  the  city. 
The  scenes  consequent  on  the  arrival  of  an  ocean 
steamer  have  also  their  interesting  phases,  often  mixed 
with  a  dash  of  the  ludicrous,  which  grow  out  of  the  in- 
spection of  baggage  by  the  Custom  House  officials/* 

The  great  steamers  which  ply  the  Hudson  and  navi- 
gate Long  Island  Sound  also  have  their  wharves  on 
the  North  River.  These  are  the  most  magnificent 
vessels  afloat,  are  fitted  up  with  the  greatest  luxuriance 
and  comfort,  and  well  merit  the  name  of  floating  pal- 
aces. The  grand  saloon  of  these  steamers  extends  the 
whole  length  of  the  boat,  and  is  two  stories  in  height. 
Massive  columns  support  the  roof,  and  around  the 
entire  saloon  runs  a  broad  gallery  upon  which  the  up- 
per tier  state  rooms  open.  The  rooms  are  cozily  fur- 
nished, and  nothing  that  can  contribute  to  the  comfort 
of  the  passengers  is  neglected.  Some  of  the  boats 
are  now  provided  with  the  electric  light,  and  present  a 
brilliant  spectacle  as  they  glide  along  at  night  over  the 
dark  waters  of  the  river  or  sound.  The  table  is  pro- 
vided with  every  luxury  and  delicacy  of  the  season. 
The  only  drawback  to  these  steamers  is  the  constant 

$ 


364 


NEW  YORK. 


presence  of  numbers  of  women  of  ill  fame,  who  make 
their  homes  on  the  boats,  and  boldly  ply  their  infamous 
trade  with  men  as  shameless  as  themselves.  These 
steamers  cost  immense  sums,  the  price  ranging  from 
half  a  million  to  a  million  and  a  quarter  of  dollars.  A 
night  trip  on  one  of  these  floating  palaces  is  an  expe- 
rience never  to  be  forgotten. 

Right  in  among  the  shipping  nestles  the  Bethel,  or 
floating  chapel  for  sailors,  a  neat  little  structure,  with 
seats  for  several  hundred  persons. 

Above  Canal  street  the  ice  companies,  whose  houses 
are  located  along  the  upper  Hudson,  have  their  depots. 
The  ice  is  brought  down  the  river  in  barges,  and  dis- 
tributed  to  city  customers  from  this  point. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Christopher  street  are  the 
^'boat  stores,"  curious  looking  floating  edifices  devoted 
mainly  to  the  sale  of  oysters  and  fish.  They  constitute 
one  of  the  most  singular  and  characteristic  features  of 
the  river  front,  and  carry  on  a  busy  trade. 

At  the  foot  of  54th  street  the  telegraph  lines  which 
connect  New  York  with  New  Jersey  and  the  States 
beyond  it  are  carried  down  to  the  river.  The  wires 
are  enclosed  in  cables  which  rest  upon  the  bed  of  the 
river.  They  reach  the  Jersey  shore  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Elysian  Fields,  in  Hoboken. 

Higher  up  the  river  are  the  grain  elevators  and 
docks  of  the  New  York  Central  Railroad,  beyond  which 
are  the  headquarters  of  the  oil  trade. 

The  East  River  front  is  devoted  chiefly  to  sailing 
vessels,  the  California  clippers,  the  great  Indiamen,  and 
the  small  craft  that  trade  between  the  city  and  New 
England  by  way  of  Long  Island  Sound.    Here  also 


CANAL  BOAT  HEADQUARTERS.  365 


are  the  wharves  of  several  lines  of  steamers  running 
to  points  on  the  Sound,  and  the  ferries  to  Brooklyn, 
Williamsburgh,  and  Long  Island  City.  Several  large 
ship  yards,  prominent  among  which  is  the  establish- 
ment of  John  Roach,  and  a  number  of  floating  docks, 
lie  along  the  upper  part  of  the  East  River,  and  high 
over  all  rises  the  huge  structure  of  the  Brooklyn  bridge. 
At  the  southern  end  of  the  East  River  front  are  the 
headquarters  of  the  canal  boats,  "which  receive  the 
freight  of  the  Erie  Canal,  and  the  locality  is  so  decep- 
tive that  a  stranger  would  never  suspect  the  immense 
commerce  which  belongs  to  it.  The  turtle-like  crafts, 
painted  generally  in  the  most  grotesquely  glaring  col- 
ors, are  so  closely  moored  together  that  one  can  easily 
walk  across  them  from  wharf  to  wharf  Men,  women, 
and  mayhap  children,  may  be  seen  from  time  to  time 
on  their  decks,  and  strings  of  family  washing  flutter  in 
the  breeze,  like  ships'  bunting.  Here  and  there  we 
may  also  see  lace  curtains  at  the  windows,  and  flowers 
peeping  from  behind — in  a  word,  all  the  signs  of  pleas- 
ant domesticity.  If  we  could  see  through  the  decks, 
we  should  probably  find  the  stern  divided  into  three  or 
four  compartments,  provided  with  all  the  comforts  foi 
a  small  family,  even  to  parlor  organs  and  sewing  ma- 
chines. The  canal  boatmen  have  their  homes  on  boardi 
these  vessels,  and  oftentimes  show  no  little  taste  in  fit- 
ting them  up." 

In  the  neighborhood  of  the  Wall  street  ferry  is  the 
headquarters  of  the  foreign  fruit  trade,  and  here  are 
vast  stores  of  the  richest  and  most  luscious  productions 
of  the  tropics;  lemons,  oranges,  dates,  figs,  bananas, 
grapes,  and  nuts  of  every  description,  for  which  the 


366 


NEW  YORK. 


Metropolis  furnishes  a  profitable  market.  At  the  foot 
of  Fulton  street  is  the  great  Brooklyn  Ferry,  and  the 
Brooklyn  Market,  and  adjoining  the  ferry  is  the  Fulton 
Fish  Market,  where  dozens  of  small  craft  are  discharg- 
ing their  finny  cargoes. 

Both  river  fronts  present  a  busy  and  bustling  scene. 
The  streets  are  thronged  with  heavily  laden  wagons 
and  trucks,  and  at  the  wharves  gangs  of  stevedores  are 
busy  loading  and  unloading  vessels.  The  noise  and 
confusion  are  very  great,  and  it  is  difficult  for  pedes- 
trians to  cross  the  streets. 

Accidents  are  very  common  along  the  river  shore, 
especially  cases  of  drowning.  As  a  means  of  rendering 
assistance  at  such  times,  rescue  stations  have  been 
established  at  various  points  along  the  docks,  and  in 
each  ferry  house.  Ladders  of  a  sufficient  length  to 
reach  from  the  pier  to  the  water  at  low  tide,  boat  hooks 
attached  to  long  poles,  life  preservers,  floats  and  coils 
of  rope,  are  placed  at  these  stations,  together  with  a 
printed  code  of  rules  for  their  use,  and  instructions 
for  the  treatment  of  persons  rescued  from  drowning. 
Each  station  is  under  the  charge  of  the  policeman 
stationed  on  the  beat  in  which  it  is  located,  and  in  the 
absence  of  a  superior  officer  it  is  his  duty  to  take 
charge  of  all  attempts  at  rescue  and  to  render  all  the 
assistance  in  his  power  on  such  occasions.  In  case  of 
accident,  any  one  may  use  the  materials  of  the  station, 
but  interfering  with  or  removing  them  at  other  times 
is  punishable  by  law.  These  stations  have  been  of  the 
greatest  service  since  their  establishment. 

One  of  the  most  efficient  forces  engaged  in  the  work 
of  saving  life  along  the  water  front  of  the  city  is  the 


NAN,  THE  LIFE-SAVER. 


367 


"Volunteer  Life  Saving  Corps,"  consisting  of  three 
boys,  headed  by  WilHam  O'Neill,  better  known  as 
Nan,  the  Newsboy,"  or  "Nan,  the  Life  Saver;"  the 
other  two  are  named  Gilbert  Long  and  Edward  Kelly. 
These  three  young  heroes  began  their  good  work  in 
the  summer  of  1878.  At  that  time  Nan  was  twenty 
years  old,  and  Long  and  Kelly  about  eighteen.  Having 
heard  a  great  deal  of  the  many  lives  lost  by  falling  or 
jumping  off  the  wharves,  they  resolved  to  start  a  life 
saving  corps,  and  quietly  went  to  work.  They  fitted 
themselves  out  with  the  necessary  apparatus,  rude,  it 
is  true,  but  effective,  and  after  their  labors  of  the  day 
were  over,  devoted  themselves  to  patrolling  the  East 
and  North  River  fronts,  from  Grand  street  on  the  East 
River  to  Pier  28  on  the  North  River,  taking  in  seventy- 
one  piers  in  all.  They  went  on  duty  at  seven  o'clock, 
and  continued  their  rounds  until  half-past  ten  or  eleven. 
They  received  no  public  encouragement,  no  assistance*, 
of  any  kind  from  any  quarter,  but  within  six  month/i 
from  the  date  of  their  organization  they  saved  twenty 
five  lives,  some  of  them  at  the  risk  of  their  own.  Only 
the  policemen,  whom  they  encountered  in  their  rounds, 
knew  of  their  noble  work.  Often  they  met  with  the 
blackest  ingratitude  from  those  whom  they  rescued. 
They  did  not  hesitate  to  plunge  into  the  river  in  tht 
darkest  nights,  or  to  brave  any  danger,  in  their  self-ap> 
pointed  task.  Two  years  ago  Captain  Paul  Boy  ton 
became  much  interested  in  Nan  and  his  companions, 
and  brought  them  before  the  public.  Since  then  assist- 
ance has  been  rendered  to  the  young  braves,  and  they 
have  been  enabled  to  prosecute  their  work  in  a  more 
thorough  manner. 


368 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  MUNICIPAL  POLICE  FORCE. 

OKIGIN  OF   THB    NEW   YORK    POLICE    FORCE— THE    OLD    TIME  POLICEMEN — "  OLD  HATBS 

INCREASE  OF  CRIME— GEORGE  W.  MATSELL — THE  FIRST  REGULAR  POLICE  FORCE — OPPOSITIOM 

TO  IT  THE  METROPOLITAN   POLICE    FORCE  ORGANIZED  THE  MUNICIPAL    POLICE  POLICH 

HEADQUARTERS — THE  COMMISSIONERS — SUPERINTENDENT  WALLING — THE  SUBOKDINATB 
OFFICERS — THE  PATROLMEN — QUALIFICATIONS  OF  A  POLICEMAN — THE  BROADWAV  SQUAD — 
DUTIES  OF  THE  FORCE — OMNIPRESENCE  OF  THE  POLICE — POWER  OVER  THE  ROUGHS  DAN- 
GERS OF  A  policeman's    LIFE — DARING  EXPLOITS  OF  CAPTAINS  WILLIAMS  AND  ALLAIRE  

FIGHTING  A  MOB — FEAR   OF  THE  "  LOCUSTS  " — UNIFORM  OF  THE   FORCE  HOW  THB  CITY  IS 

PATROLLED — HOURS  OF  DUTY — A  SINGULAR  POLICEMAN — HOW  PETE   JOINED  THB  FORCE  

HIS  SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE  STATION  HOUSES — INTERNAL  ARRANGEMENTS — THB  "  BUM- 
MERS* ROOMS  "—HOW  VAGRANTS  ARE  LODGED— THE  SERGEANT  IN  CHARGE — A  NIGHT  IN  A 

POLICE  STATION — A  FEMALE  TRAMP — "  DRUNK  AND  DISORDERLY     — A  CASE  OF  DISTRESS  A 

FRUITLESS  ERRAND— A  NEW  WAY  TO  GET  HOME  AT  NIGHT — SEARCH  FOR  A  MISSING  HUSBAND 
— A  POLITICAL  ROW — YOUNG  BLOODS  ON  A  LARK — COSTLY  FUN — A  WOULD-BK-SUICIDE — 
BROUGHT  BACK  FROM  THE  GRAVE — A  JOLLY  TRAMP — A  GHASTLY  SPECTACLE — MA3KBRS  IN  A 

STATION  HOUSE  THE  MOUNTED  POLICE  A  SENSIBLE  HORSE — THE  HARBOR  POLICM— A  HARD 

LIFE — PROVISION  FOR  DISABLED  POLICEMEN  AND  THEIR  FAMILIES. 

In  the  year  1658  Peter  Stuyvesant  was  Governor 
of  New  Amsterdam,  and  the  town  had  attained  con- 
siderable proportions.  The  portly  burghers,  careful 
for  the  safety  of  their  lives  and  property,  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  dangerous  to  leave  the  town 
unguarded  at  night,  and  so  in  that  year  a  night  v/atch 
of  eight  men  was  organized,  properly  armed,  and 
provided  with  formidable  looking  rattles.  This  was  the 
origin  of  the  splendid  force  of  which  New  York  is  now 
so  justly  proud.  When  the  English  came,  in  1 676,  they 
changed  the  name  of  the  town  to  New  York,  and  also 
made  a  material  change  in  the  night  watch.  They 
required  all  able-bodied  citizens  to  keep  watch  by  turns, 
and  punished  a  disregard  of  this  duty  by  a  fine.  These 
citizens  were  required  to  provide  themselves  with  good 
muskets  and  six  rounds  of  ammunition.    The  head- 


THE  FIRST  POLICEMEN. 


369 


quarters  of  the  watch  were  at  the  Town  Hall,  then 
located  at  Coenties  Slip,  and  in  the  basement  of  this 
building  cells  were  provided  for  the  prisoners  arrested. 
These  were  few  in  number,  however,  being  mostly 
unruly  negro  slaves  and  drunken  sailors  from  the  ships 
in  the  harbor.  New  York  was  a  very  orderly  town  at 
that  time,  and  the  citizens  gave  the  Night  Watch  but 
very  little  trouble.  In  1697  a  regular  watch  of  "four 
good  and  honest  inhabitants  of  the  city"  was  appointed 
to  patrol  the  streets  by  night.  Each  was  provided 
with  a  bell,  and  was  required  to  call  out  the  hours  of  the 
night  and  the  state  of  the  weather.  During  the  British 
occupation  of  the  city,  in  the  war  of  Independence, 
military  patrols  kept  the  streets  at  night,  extending  as 
far  up  the  Island  as  the  present  line  of  14th  street. 
After  the  close  of  the  war  a  patrol  of  civilians  was 
appointed.  They  were  generally  men  who  pursued 
some  humble  and  laborious  occupation  during  the  day/ 
and  watched  on  alternate  nights,  a  good  part  of  v/hich 
they  spent  in  dozing  on  their  posts.  They  also  called 
the  hour  for  many  years.  They  wore  a  leather  hat 
with  a  wide  brim,  something  like  a  fireman's  hat  and 
this  won  for  them  the  name  of  "Leatherheads."  Their 
only  badge  of  office  was  a  stout  club  about  33  inches 
long. 

During  all  this  time  the  city  had  no  day  police.  The 
first  guardian  of  the  peace  by  daylight  was  the  High 
Constable,  Jacob  Hayes,  generally  known  as  "Old 
Hayes,"  who  came  into  office  more  than  forty  years  ago. 
His  exploits  were  regarded  as  something  wonderful  by 
the  New  Yorkers  of  his  time,  though  to  the  average 
policeman  or  detective  of  to-day  they  are  simple 

24 


370 


NEW  YORK. 


enough.  Yet,  though  he  was  a  terror  to  evil  doers,  he 
was  but  one  man  against  many,  and  even  his  zealous 
efforts  could  not  keep  the  ruffianly  class  in  order. 

In  1840  New  York  had  a  population  of  about 
400,000,  and  it  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  commercial 
prosperity  that  then  seemed  marvelous.  The  lack  of 
a  police  force  was  keenly  felt.  Crime  was  rampant, 
and  in  certain  districts  of  the  city  respectable  persons 
walking  along  the  street  were  insulted,  robbed,  and 
beaten  in  open  daylight,  by  gangs  of  ruffians  who  in- 
iested  these  quarters.  At  night  the  streets  were  abso- 
lutely unsafe.  Burglaries  and  murders  were  of  almost 
nightly  occurrence.  So  bad  did  this  state  of  affairs 
become,  that  the  citizens  with  one  accord  declared  that 
New  York  must  be  provided  with  a  proper  police 
force. 

One  of  the  four  police  justices  of  the  city  at  this 
''time  was  George  W.  Matsell,  a  young  man  of  high 
character  and  great  energy.  He  at  once  applied  him- 
self to  the  task  of  providing  a  proper  force.  He 
selected  half  a  dozen  good  men,  and  placing  himself 
.at*their  head,  nightly  patrolled  the  wealthier  districts, 
where  burglaries  were  the  most  frequent.  In  a  short 
time  he  was  authorized  by  the  other  justices  to  increase 
his  force,  and  a  number  of  squads  were  organized  and 
placed  under  the  command  of  picked  men,  one  of 
whom  was  the  present  superintendent  of  the  force, 
George  W.  Walling.  The  force  was  regularly  uni- 
formed, and  with  Matsell  at  its  head  did  good  work. 
Mayor  Harper  lent  it  a  vigorous  support,  but  the  uni- 
form, which  was  copied  from  that  of  the  London 
police,  gave  great  offence  to  the  Irish,  who  were  very 


THE  METROPOLITAN  POLICE. 


371 


numerous  then,  as  now,  in  the  city,  and  the  police 
encountered  a  stubborn  resistance,  which  assumed  its 
greatest  proportions  in  the  troubles  at  the  burning  of 
the  Bowery  Theatre.  This  brought  matters  to  a  crisis, 
and  the  Legislature  of  the  State  passed  a  law  in  March, 
1 844,  abolishing  the  old  night  watch  and  organizing  a 
regular  police  force,  which  was  not  to  exceed  nine  hun- 
dred members.  The  city  was  divided  into  separate  patrol 
districts,  station-houses  were  provided,  and  the  police 
force  was  systematically  organized.  In  the  spring  of 
1 845  Mayor  Havermeyer  appointed  Mr.  Matsell  Chief 
of  Police,  and  from  the  first  the  force  began  to  give  a 
good  account  of  itself,  although  its  usefulness  was  sadly 
hampered  by  political  influence,  which  has  ever  since 
been  its  curse.  In  1857  a  change  was  made.  The 
Legislature  consolidated  New  York,  Brooklyn,  West- 
chester, King  and  Richmond  (Staten  Island)  counties 
into  a  Metropolitan  police  district.  This  district  was 
under  the  control  of  a  Board  of  Commissioners,  seven 
in  number,  including  the  Mayors  of  New  York  and 
Brooklyn,  who  were  ex-officio  members.  The  consoli- 
dated force  was  under  the  command  of  a  superintend 
dent  with  headquarters  in  New  York.  The  first  super- 
intendent under  this  law  was  John  A.  Kennedy.  In 
i860  the  law  was  considerably  modified,  and  the  num- 
ber of  the  commissioners  was  reduced  to  three.  Super- 
intendent  Kennedy  raised  the  efficiency  of  the  Metro- 
politan Police  to  a  high  state.  During  the  terrible 
"Draft  Riots"  of  1863  the  magnificent  courage  with 
which  the  police  held  the  city  against  the  mob  won 
them  a  proud  and  lasting  reputation.  Three  days  of 
incessant  fighting  proved  them  to  be  men  who  could 
be  relied  upon  in  the  most  trying  emergency. 


872 


NEW  YORK. 


The  charter  of  1870  abolished  the  Metropolitan  dis* 
trict  so  far  as  New  York  was  concerned,  and  provided 
for  the  creation  of  a  Municipal  Police.  All  the  old 
force  doing  duty  in  New  York  was  retained,  and  the 
organization  was  placed  under  the  control  of  four  Com- 
missioners, appointed  by  the  Mayor  with  the  consent 
of  the  Board  of  Aldermen.  The  command  of  the 
force  was  vested  in  a  superintendent.  This  is  the 
present  police  force  of  New  York. 

The  Police  Headquarters  of  New  York  are  located 
in  Mulberry  street,  between  Houston  and  Bleecker 
street.  This  is  known  as  "The  Central  Office."  The 
building  is  a  handsome  structure  of  white  marble,  and 
extends  through  the  block  to  Mott  street,  the  front 
on  that  street  being  of  pressed  brick,  with  white 
marble  trimmings.  The  entire  building  is  elegantly 
fitted  up,  and  is  provided  with  every  convenience  for 
the  prompt  and  proper  discharge  of  the  duties  of  the 
officials  located  within  it.  Here  are  the  offices  of  the 
Commissioners  and  their  clerks,  the  Superintendent, 
the  Street  Cleaning  Bureau,  the  Detective  Squad,  the 
Chief  Surgeon,  and  the  ''Rogue's  Gallery."  The 
building  is  connected  with  every  station  house  by 
special  telegraphic  wires. 

The  control  of  the  force,  as  has  been  said,  is  vested 
in  a  Board  of  four  Commissioners.  They  receive  an 
annual  salary  of  ^6000  each,  except  the  President 
of  the  Board,  who  is  paid  ^8000,  and  hold  office  for 
six  years.  They  may  be  removed  "for  cause"  by  the 
Mayor,  with  the  concurrence  of  the  Governor  of  the 
State.  They  appoint  the  Superintendent  and  all  the 
members  of  the  force,  make  promotions,  and  have 


THE  SUPERINTENDENT  OF  POLICE. 


373 


power  to  dismiss  an  offender  after  he  has  had  a  fair 
hearing  before  them.  All  complaints  against  police- 
men are  laid  before  them,  and  they  alone  have  power 
to  try  the  members  of  the  force.  They  also  appoint 
the  Inspectors  of  Election,  about  eleven  hundred  in 
number,  select  the  five  hundred  and  fifty  polling 
places,  and  count  the  votes  cast.  The  law  requires 
that  the  Commissionerships  shall  be  equally  divided 
between  the  two  leading  political  parties.  This  is  an 
element  of  weakness  in  the  organization,  as  it  opens 
the  door  to  political  influence  in  the  distribution  of 
appointments. 

The  Superintendent  is  the  immediate  commander  of 
the  Police  force.  His  duties  are  onerous,  and  only  a 
man  of  high  moral  as  well  as  physical  courage  and 
undoubted  integrity  can  fill  the  position  worthily.  The 
members  of  the  force  receive  their  orders  from  him, 
through  his  subordinates,  and  are  responsible  to  him 
for  the  proper  performance  of  their  duties,  he  being, 
in  his  turn,  responsible  to  the  Commissioners  for  the 
discipline  and  good  conduct  of  the  force.  His  office  is 
connected  with  every  station  house  in  the  city  by  tele- 
graph, and  he  is  in  constant  communication  with  all 
parts  of  the  immense  field  over  which  he  keeps  watch. 
In  this  way  he  can  spread  the  news  of  a  robbery,  trace 
a  lost  child,  or  track  a  criminal  all  over  the  city,  and 
in  fact  throughout  the  Union,  without  leaving  his  desk. 

The  present  Superintendent  is  Mr.  George  W.  Wal- 
ling, who  has  been  connected  with  the  force  for  fort>' 
years.  He  is  a  fine-looking,  well-preserved  man,  and 
one  of  the  most  satisfactory  officials  New  York  has 
ever  had.    He  is  firm,  but  just,  in  the  enforcement  of 


374 


NEW  YORK. 


the  discipline  of  the  force ;  brave  as  a  lion,  and  de- 
servedly popular  with  his  men  and  with  the  citizens 
generally. 

Under  the  Superintendent  are  four  Inspectors  of 
Police,  one  of  whom  must  always  be  on  duty  at  the 
central  office.  Each  inspector  has  charge  of  one  of 
the  four  inspection  districts  into  which  the  cit^'  is  di- 
vided, and  is  responsible  for  the  preservation  of  order 
in  his  district.  He  must  examine  the  police  stations 
under  his  control,  making  his  visits  at  times  when  he 
is  not  expected,  and  see  that  everything  connected 
with  it  is  conducted  properly.  Complaints  made  by 
citizens  against  members  of  the  force  are  investigated 
by  him,  and  he  reports  the  result  to  the  Superinten- 
dent, who,  in  his  turn,  lays  the  matter  before  the  Com- 
•missioners,  if  the  evidence  submitted  by  the  Inspector 
•warrants  him  in  doing  so.  The  Inspector  must  also 
visit  the  patrolmen  on  their  beats  at  uncertain  hours, 
to  ascertain  if  they  are  faithfully  performing  their 
duties. 

The  city  is  divided  into  thirty-five  precincts,  in  each 
of  which  there  is  a  station-house.  Each  precinct  is 
commanded  by  a  Captain  of  Police,  under  whom  are 
several  Sergeants,  one  of  whom  must  be  on  duty  at  the 
station-house  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  The 
Captain  is  responsible  for  the  proper  conduct  of  the 
station,  the  correct  performance  of  their  duties  by  the 
men  under  his  command,  and  the  general  good  order 
of  his  precinct.  The  Sergeants  are  the  Captain's  Lieur 
tenants,  and  perform  such  duties  as  he  may  assign 
them.  Below  the  Sergeants  are  the  Roundsmen,  who 
"go  the  rounds"  in  certain  specified  districts,  to  see 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  POLICE  FORCE. 


375 


that  each  patrolman  is  on  his  post,  and  to  receive  such 
reports  as  the  patrolmen  may  wish  to  make. 

The  Patrolmen  are  the  privates  of  the  force.  Each 
has  a  certain  "beat"  or  route  assigned  him,  which  he 
must  patrol  faithfully  during  his  hours  of  duty.  He  is 
responsible  for  the  preservation  of  order  on  his  beat, 
and  is  required  to  summon  assistance  when  needed. 

The  present  police  force  consists  of  about  three 
thousand  men.  Their  pay  is  not  large,  considering  the 
arduous  and  dangerous  duties  required  of  them,  and 
the  great  responsibility  resting  upon  them.  A  Captain 
receives  $2000  a  year,  a  Sergeant  500,  a  Roundsman 
J 1 200,  and  a  Patrolman  ^1000. 

Besides  the  force  employed  in  patrolling  the  city^ 
special  detachments  guard  the  City  Hall,  the  Grand 
Central  Depot,  the  Banks,  the  theatres,  and  public 
ineetings;  act  as  a  Sanitary  Police  exclusively;  do 
niuty  as  a  Mounted  Police;  watch  over  the  neighboring 
waters  as  a  "Harbor  Police,"  and  are  assigned  to 
special  duty  as  detectives.  For  these  special  services 
they  receive  no  extra  pay. 

Naturally,  among  so  large  a  body  of  men,  there  will 
always  be  considerable  sickness.  When  a  Patrolman 
falls  sick  from  "unusual  exposure,  exertion,  or  injury^ 
while  in  the  discharge  of  police  duty,"  he  is  put  on 
half-pay  until  he  returns  to  duty.  The  Commissioners 
have  power  to  award  full  pay  to  meritorious  officers 
thus  afflicted,  and  claim  that  such  a  course  is  usually 
pursued. 

The  Regulations  of  the  force  thus  prescribe  the 
qualifications  of  applicants  for  admission  to  the  force: 
.  "No  person  will  be  appointed  a  Patrolman  of  the 
Municipal  Police  Force  unless  he 


376 


NE-W  YORK. 


"First.  Is  able  to  read  and  write  the  English  lan- 
guage understandingly. 

"Second.    Is  a  citizen  of  the  United  States. 

"Third.  Has  been  a  resident  of  this  State  for  a  term 
of  one  year,  next  prior  to  his  application  for  the  office. 
Fourth.    Has  never  been  convicted  of  a  crime. 

"Fifth.    Is  at  least  five  feet  eight  inches  in  height. 

"Sixth.    Is  less  than  thirty-five  years  of  age. 

"Seventh.  Is  in  good  health,  and  of  sound  body  and 
mind. 

"  Eighth.    Is  of  good  moral  character  and  habits. 

"Applicants  for  the  office  must  present  to  the  Board 
of  Commissioners  a  petition  signed  by  not  less  than 
five  citizens  of  good  character  and  habits,  and  verified 
by  the  affidavit  of  one  of  them." 

The  applicant  is  subjected  to  a  rigid  medical  exami- 
nation, by  one  or  more  of  the  most  competent  sur- 
geons of  the  force.  The  standard  of  physical  capacity 
is  very  high,  and  not  more  than  one  in  ten  of  the  ap- 
plicants ever  come  up  to  it.  Only  sound  and  perfectly 
healthy  men  are  wanted.  Applicants  must  also  state, 
under  oath,  their  parentage,  nationality,  education,  per- 
sonal condition  in  every  respect,  their  present  business 
or  employment,  and  physical  condition. 

The  force  is  regularly  drilled  in  military  tactics  by 
competent  instructors,  and  the  strictest  discipline  is 
maintained.  Thus,  in  times  of  emergency,  the  force  is 
capable  of  acting  as  a  body  of  veteran  soldiers.  As  a 
rule,  the  men  are  large,  fine-looking  fellows,  and  at 
their  annual  parades  their  martial  bearing,  steadiness, 
and  admirable  discipline,  never  fail  to  win  them  hearty 
applause.    The  largest  and  finest-looking  men  are  as- 


DUTIES  OF  A  PATROLMAN. 


377 


signed  to  duty  on  Broadway.  Nor  is  this  for  show 
only.  The  duties  of  a  Broadway  patrolman  are  ardu- 
ous and  exacting,  and  scarcely  a  day  passes  that  does 
not  add  its  testimony  in  favor  of  the  wisdom  of  the  rule 
that  governs  their  selection. 

That  many  of  the  members  of  the  force  are  brutal 
wretches,  and  are  only  kept  in  their  positions  by  politi- 
cal influence,  is  unfortunately  true ;  but  taken  as  a 
whole,  the  police  of  New  York  are  a  credit  to  the  city. 
They  have  never  failed  in  their  duty  in  any  emergency, 
and  instances  of  individual  courage  and  heroism  are 
of  daily  occurrence. 

The  duties  of  a  Patrolman  are  numerous  and  diffi- 
cult. Each  has  a  certain  beat "  or  district  assigned 
him,  which  he  must  patrol  and  watch  faithfully  during 
his  hours  of  duty.  In  some  sections  of  the  city  these 
beats  are  very  extensive,  and  it  takes  the  Patrolman  a 
considerable  length  of  time  to  walk  around  his  district. 
In  such  cases  more  is  required  of  the  man  than  he  is 
capable  of  performing,  for  a  crime  may  be  committed 
in  some  part  of  his  beat,  when  he  is  far  away  on  an- 
other part,  faithfully  doing  his  duty.  The  Patrolman 
is  expected  to  use  the  utmost  vigilance  to  prevent  the 
occurrence  of  crime  or  wrong-doing  along  his  beat,  or, 
at  least,  to  use  such  vigilance  as  will  render  the  com- 
mission of  it  difficult.  He  must  keep  an  eye  on  all 
persons  passing  along  his  route  after  dark,  examine 
frequently  the  doors,  lower  windows,  cellar  doors,  and 
gates  of  the  houses  he  guards  ;  peer  through  the  peep- 
holes into  the  stores  in  which  the  gas  is  left  burning, 
to  see  that  all  is  quiet  and  safe ;  to  have  a  general 
knowledge  of  the  occupants  of  the  houses  along  his 


378 


NEW  YORK. 


beat ;  to  report  to  the  officer  in  charge  of  his  station 
"all  persons  suspected  of  being  policy  dealers,  gam- 
blers, receivers  of  stolen  property,  thieves,  burglars,  or 
offenders  of  any  kind to  watch  all  disorderly  houses 
or  houses  of  ill-fame,  and  observe  and  report  to  his 
commanding  officer  all  persons  by  whom  they  are  fre- 
quented to  give  the  alarm  in  case  of  fire  ;  to  aid  per- 
sons appealing  to  him  for  protection  ;  to  stop  all  undue 
noise  or  disorder  on  the  street ;  and  to  make  arrests 
for  certain  offences  which  are  named  in  the  book  of 
Regulations,  of  which  each  member  of  the  force  is  re- 
quired to  have  a  copy.  He  is  not  allowed  to  stop  and 
converse  with  strangers  or  acquaintances,  except  for 
the  purpose  of  giving  them  such  information  as  they 
may  ask  for ;  nor  to  converse  with  any  other  Patrol- 
man, except  to  impart  or  receive  information.  He 
must  not  stop  on  his  post,  but  must  diligently  patrol  it, 
except  when  some  suspicious  light  or  person  causes 
him  to  linger  to  watch  it  or  him.  He  must  be  exceed^ 
ingly  careful  in  making  arrests,  so  as  to  take  into  cus- 
tody the  actual  offender,  and  not  an  innocent  person ; 
and  he  is  forbidden  to  use  violence,  unless  it  shall  be 
necessary  in  order  to  overcome  the  resistance  of  his 
prisoner.  If  he  cannot  make  the  arrest  alone,  or  if  he 
has  good  reason  to  believe  that  assistance  is  neces- 
sary, it  is  his  duty  to  summon  another  officer,  by  rap- 
ping with  his  club  upon  the  pavement,  and  in  the 
meantime  to  call  upon  the  bystanders  for  aid.  A  re- 
fusal to  assist  an  officer  when  called  upon  constitutes 
a  misdemeanor,  and  the  offender  is  liable  to  arrest. 

"  It  is  common  cant,  that  a  policeman  is  always  pres- 
ent— except  when  wanted.    In  the  lower  part  of  New 


VIGILANCE  OF  THE  POLICE.  379 

York  this  is  an  unjust  charge.  How  far  wiil  you 
walk  in  the  region  of  Canal  street,  for  instance,  before 
meeting  a  policeman — that  is,  if  you  look  for  one,  for 
it  is  his  policy  to  remain  inconspicuous  ?  Lower 
Broadway,  dim  and  gloomy  at  midnight,  is  full  of  po- 
lice, furiously  shaking  at  the  handles  of  the  doors,  to 
be  sure  that  all  are  securely  locked,  peering  through 
the  little  peep-holes  of  the  iron  shutters,  to  see  that  no 
burglars  are  at  work  in  the  stores  where  lights  are  left 
burning  all  night,  or  that  an  incipient  fire  is  not  work- 
ing insidious  destruction  ;  lurking  out  of  sight  in  shady 
doorways,  while  they  watch  suspicious  loungers ;  or 
standing  in  groups  of  two  or  three  on  the  corners 
where  two  posts  intersect,  and  a  Roundsman  has  hap- 
pened to  join  them.  Leaving  Broadway,  and  glancing 
down  dark  and  fearful  back  streets,  like  Bayard  or  Eliza- 
beth, West,  Houston  or  Sullivan,  you  are  sure  to  see^ 
the  flickering  light  of  the  street  lamps,  and  the  ruddy 
glare  of  red-sign  lanterns,  reflected  from  the  silver 
shield  and  brass  buttons.  Go  where  you  may,  you 
meet  these  erect  and  wide-awake  watchmen.  They 
are  strolling  through  the  deserted  avenues  of  Wash 
ington  Market ;  they  are  keeping  an  eye  on  rogues  in 
Madison  Square;  they  are  pulling  silently  in  and  ouit 
of  the  shadows  of  the  great  ships  lying  asleep  at  thai 
wharves;  they  are  dosing  as  'reserves'  in  the  thirty- 
four  station-houses,  ready  on  telegraphic  summons  to 
go  to  the  care  of  a  fire  or  the  subduing  of  a  riot.  The 
worshiper,  coming  from  his  weekly  prayer-meeting» 
finds  the  policemen  at  the  door,  enforcing  his  coveted 
quiet.  The  family  that  goes  for  a  day's  recreation  at 
Rockaway,  is  sure  that  its  pleasure  will  not  be  spoiled 


380 


NEW  YORK. 


by  rowdyism,  for  a  group  of  officers  stand  on  the  deck, 
seemingly  absorbed  in  the  magnificence  of  the  sum- 
mer's morning  on  the  Bay;  yet  ready,  ready!  The 
opera-glasses  sweeping  the  audience  at  '  Faust '  or 
'The  Shaughran'  catch  a  sight  of  a  blue  coat  or  two 
behind  the  ranks  of  white  ribbons  and  pretty  plumes. 

"Though  honest  men  sometimes  do  not  seem  able 
to  put  their  finger  upon  a  policeman  at  the  instant  they 
want  him,  rogues  find  far  oftener  that  the  'peelers'  are 
on  hand  when  not  wanted.  Go  to  Chatham  Square 
some  night,  break  a  window,  and  run;  how  far  do  you 
suppose  you  would  get?  Or  go  to  Broadway  and 
Sixth  avenue  and  fire  a  revolver;  how  long  would  you 
keep  that  pistol?  Let  me  snatch  an  apple  from  an  old 
woman's  stand  in  Fulton  Market,  and  she  would  have 
me  under  lock  and  key  in  twenty  minutes,  if  she 
thought  it  worth  the  trouble.  Wander  where  we  will 
in  this  vast  city,  the  ruffian  or  vagrant  cannot  get  away 
from  the  law.  It  follows  him  into  his  home,  waits  at 
all  his  resorts  for  amusement,  and  can  often  tell  him 
better  than  he  knows  himself  what  he  has  been  doing 
for  twenty-four  hours.  This  constant  surveillance 
exasperates  bad  characters.  They  chafe  under  the 
restraint,  make  feeble  efforts  to  rebel,  but  it  is  useless. 
The  power  of  the  police  over  the  lower  and  evil  circles 
of  society  is  enormous;  they  have  a  mortal  fear  of  the 
force.  They  know  that  behind  that  silver  shield  there 
resides  indomitable  courage,  and  in  that  closely  but- 
toned coat  are  muscles  of  iron  and  nerves  of  steel. 
The  'Bowery  Boys'  and  roughs  of  New  York  are  all 
cowards,  and  they  know  it.  They  dare  not  meet  half 
their  weight  of  righteous  pluck.  >  I  have  seen  a  great 


COWING  A  MOB. 


38.1 


bully  cringe  and  cry  under  a  policeman's  open-handed 
cuffing,  who  had  always  avowed  himself  ready  to  fight 
any  number  of  persons  on  the  smallest  provocation. 
Ver\^  Hkely  he  has  a  bowie-knife,  or  revolver,  or  slung 
shot — or  all  three  in  one,  as  I  saw  one  night  in  28th 
street — in  his  pocket  at  the  time;  yet  he  does  not 
attempt  to  use  it  on  the  officer  of  the  law.  The 
occasional  exceptions  to  this  are  rare  and  notable. 
How  many  times  have  a  single  policeman  arrested  a 
man  out  of  a  crowd,  and  no  one  of  his  fellows  raised  a 
finger  to  help  him!  They  dare  not.  They  have  too 
wholesome  a  respect  for  the  law,  for  that  locust,  for 
that  revolver  in  the  pocket;  most  of  all  they  are  awed 
by  the  cool  courage  of  the  7nan  who  dares  to  face  them 
on  their  own  ground." 

Yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  policeman's  life  is  full  of 
danger.  He  must  patrol  streets  that  are  known  to  be 
dangerous,  narrow  alleys,  without  a  light  along  their 
course,  where  a  well  delivered  blow  from  a  slunor  shot, 
a  skillfully  aimed  thrust  from  a  knife,  or  a  bullet  from  a 
revolver  would  make  an  end  of  him  before  he  could 
summon  help.  He  is  an  object  of  hatred,  as  well  as 
of  fear,  to  the  dangerous  classes,  and  they  do  not  hesi- 
tate  to  take  any  advantage  of  him.  Often  some  brave 
fellow  is  set  on  by  a  gang  of  roughs,  and  beaten  or 
wounded.  Yet  whatever  the  danger,  however  great 
the  odds,  the  policeman  must  face  it  all,  and,  to  the 
honor  of  the  force  be  it  said,  he  does  not  shrink. 
Whatever  their  faults  may  be,  cowardice  cannot  be 
charged  against  the  police  of  New  York. 

"In  1873,"  says  the  writer  in  Scidbners  Magazine, 
from  whom  we  have  quoted  above,  '"Mulligan's  Hall* 


382 


NEW  YORK. 


was  a  basement  saloon  in  Broome  street.  It  had  been 
growing  worse  and  worse,  and  one  evening,  hearing  a 
disturbance,  Captain  Williams  and  the  officer  on  that 
post  went  in.  There  were  thirty-eight  persons,  men 
and  women,  of  every  color  and  nationality,  all  of  the 
worst  character  and  some  notorious  in  crime.  The 
Captain  took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  and  deter- 
mined with  a  thought  to  arrest  the  whole  party.  Placing 
his  back  to  the  front  door,  he  covered  the  back  door 
with  his  revolver,  and  threatened  death  to  the  first  per- 
son who  moved.  Then  he  sent  the  patrolman  to  the 
station  for  help,  and  for  fifteen  long  minutes  held  that 
crowd  of  desperadoes  at  bay.  They  glared  at  him, 
squirmed  and  twisted  in  their  places,  scowled  and  gra- 
ted clenched  teeth,  itched  to  get  at  their  knives  and 
tear  him  to  pieces;  but  all  the  while  the  stern  mouth 
of  that  revolver  looked  at  them,  and  looked  them  out 
of  countenance,  and  the  steady  nerve  behind  it  held 
sway  over  their  brutal  ferocity.  It  was  a  trial  of  nerve 
and  endurance.  Captain  Williams  stood  the  test  and 
saved  his  life.  He  wonders  now  why  they  did  not  shoot 
him  a  dozen  times.  Certainly  it  was  not  because  they 
had  any  scruples,  for  the  first  two  prisoners  sent  to  the 
station  killed  Officer  Burns  with  a  paving  stone  before 
they  had  gone  two  blocks.  Captain  Allaire  made  an 
almost  precisely  similar  single-handed  raid  on  the 
famous  'Burnt  Rag'  saloon  in  Bleecker  street,  one 
winter  night  in  1875." 

One  Fourth  of  July  morning,  a  few  years  ago,  the 
writer  of  these  pages  was  coming  up  Third  avenud  on 
a  street  car.  Looking  down  East  35th  street  a  singu- 
lar sight  presented  itself.    A  platoon  of  police  formed 


PRE  VENTING   A  RIOT. 


383 


across  the  street  was  slowly  retreating  backward,  with 
revolvers  drawn  and  pointed,  while  two  of  their  number 
held  on  to  a  rough  looking  prisoner,  whom  they  carried 
along  with  them.  Following  them  was  a  mob  of 
several  hundred  ruffians,  yelling,  cursing,  and  occa- 
sionally throwing  stones.  Wishing  to  see  the  result, 
I  sprang  from  the  car  and  hurried  to  a  livery  stable 
just  opposite  the  Police  station  in  35th  street,  and  about 
a  hundred  'yards  from  Third  avenue,  from  which  I 
could  see  the  whole  affair.  The  Police  retreated 
slowly  across  Third  avenue,  and  to  the  station  house, 
into  which  they  quickly  disappeared  with  their  prisoner. 
A  cheer  went  up  from  the  mob,  and  the  ruffians 
thronged  about  the  station  as  if  intending  to  attack  it. 
Immediately  the  doors  were  thrown  open  and  the  entire 
force  on  duty  at  the  station  dashed  into  the  street, 
armed  with  their  long  night  clubs,  and  headed  by  their 
Captain.  "Give  them  the  locusts,  men,"  came  in  sharp, 
ringing  tones  from  the  Captain,  and  without  a  word 
the  force  dashed  at  the  mob,  striking  heads,  arms,  an<^ 
shoulders,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  me  to  relattji 
it,  the  ruffians  were  fleeing  down  the  street  and  dis 
persing  in  all  directions.  Not  all  escaped,  however, 
for  each  officer  returned  to  the  station  with  an  ugly 
looking  prisoner  in  his  grasp. 

The  uniform  of  the  force  is  a  long  blue  coat,  of  heavy- 
cloth,  buttoned  to  the  throat,  with  a  row  of  brass  but- 
tons. A  silver  shield  is  worn  on  the  left  breast,  with 
the  arms  of  the  city  and  the  number  of  the  officer  upoa 
it.  A  stout  cloth  helmet  covers  the  head,  and  is  also 
adorned  with  the  wearer's  number,  enclosed  in  a 
wreath.    A  baton  of  heavy  wood  is  suspended  from  a 


384 


NEW  YORK. 


belt  at  the  waist,  and  at  night  a  club  of  greater  length 
takes  its  place.  This  is  provided  with  an  ornamental 
but  stout  cord,  by  means  of  which  the  officer  secures 
the  club  to  his  wrist  when  using  it.  A  loaded  revolver 
is  carried  night  and  day  in  the  hip  pocket.  In  the 
warm  season  a  light  blue  blouse  is  worn  in  place  of 
the  heavy  coat.  The  members  of  the  force  are  required 
to  be  neat  in  their  dress,  and  must  come  on  duty  with 
freshly  polished  boots  or  shoes.  Untidiness  in  dress 
is  punished. 

"A  policeman's  time  is  reckoned  by  periods  of  four 
days,  but  he  has  no  Sunday  or  holidays,  save  his  an- 
nual summer  leave  of  absence.  Beginning  at  six  p.  m. 
on  Sunday,  for  instance,  he  goes  upon  duty,  and  paces 
his  beat  until  midnight.  Returning  he  remains  in  the 
station  house  on  "reserve"  duty  until  six  a.m.;  then 
goes  out  for  eight  hours,  after  which  there  is  four  hours 
rest,  bringing  the  time  to  six  p.  m.  on  Monday.  At 
that  time  he  goes  on  duty  again  for  six  hours,  followed 
by  six  hours'  reserve  duty,  bringing  it  to  six  a.  m. 
This  is  followed  by  two  hours'  patrol  and  five  hours' 
reserve,  ending  at  one  p.  m.,  Tuesday.  Then  begins 
five  hours'  patrol,  six  hours  in  the  house,  and  six  hours 
more  of  patrol,  ending  at  six  a.  m.,  Wednesday  morn- 
ing, after  which  he  is  "off,"  and  goes  where  he  pleases 
until  six  o'clock  that  evening,  When  he  begins  six  hours 
of  patrol  followed  by  eight  hours  of  reserve  duty,  five 
hours  of  patrolling  again,  then  a  rest  of  eleven  hours 
in  the  station  house,  then  another  six  hours  of  post 
duty,  and  at  six  on  Thursday  evening  he  finds  himself 
off  once  more  for  twelve  hours.  The  following  morn- 
ing he  begins  it  all  over  again.    Thus,  once  in  eight 


HOW  PETE  BECAME  A  POLICEMAN.  385 


days  he  can  stay  at  home  all  day,  and  every  eighth 
night  he  can  sleep  at  home.  But  he  must  not  be 
tardy  in  returning  to  his  work. 

'•  At  six  in  the  morning  and  evening,  and  at  twelve, 
noon  and  midnight,  the  Sergeant  on  duty  in  each  office 
taps  his  bell.  The  platoon  which  is  to  go  on  duty — 
each  company  is  divided  into  two  sections  of  two 
platoons  each — files  in  from  the  waiting  room,  dresses 
ranks,  answers  roll  call,  is  inspected,  to  see  that  each 
man  is  in  proper  uniform,  has  his  club,  his  revolver,  his 
handcuffs,  and  his  fire  alarm  key.  Then  such  general 
orders  as  have  come  from  headquarters  are  read,  and 
at  the  words,  'Draw  batons,  right  face,  march!'  the 
blue  coats  pass  out  and  scatter  to  their  posts.  As  fast 
as  relieved,  the  men  who  have  been  on  duty  during  the 
previous  six  hours  return  to  the  station." 

At  the  Church  street  station  the  force  on  duty  have 
a  singular  coadjutor,  in  a  dog,  named  ''Pete."  Pete's 
history  is  a  remarkable  one,  and  is  worth  relating. 
Late  on  a  warm  afternoon,  about  six  years  ago,  a  dog 
walked  into  the  main  room  of  the  station  and  stretched 
himself  on  the  floor.  All  attempts  to  drive  him  out 
were  in  vain,  and  he  was  suffered  to  remain.  Later  in 
the  day  he  roused  himself  and  trotted  into  the  room 
where  the  patrolmen  congregate  when  on  reserve  duty, 
and  stretching  himself  under  the  table  went  to  sleep. 
At  midnight  the  fourth  section  of  the  second  platoon 
was  rung  up.  The  men  marched  into  the  main  room, 
and  ranged  themselves  in  line.  The  dog  followed  and 
took  his  position  at  the  foot.  When  the  roll  was  called 
the  Sergeant  named  the  dog  Pete,  and  bade  him  go 
with  the  men.    He  followed  them  out,  went  around 

25 


SS6 


NEW  YORK. 


from  one  post  to  another,  returned  with  the  platoon  in 
the  morning,  and  went  to  sleep  under  the  table. 

Relays  of  men  were  called  during  the  day,  but  the 
dog  did  not  move.  At  six  o'clock  the  fourth  section 
of  the  second  platoon  was  again  called  out.  The  dog 
marched  in  with  the  men  and  took  up  his  position  at 
the  foot  of  the  line. 

"By  George!"  said  the  Captain,  "there's  that  pup 
again.  Well,  don't  feed  him,  doorman,  and  he'll  soon 
^o  away." 

But  he  did'nt  go  away.  He  has  never  been  fed  in 
the  station,  and  he  has  always  acted  thoroughly  at 
home. 

"There's  one  peculiar  thing  about  Pete,"  said  one  of 
the  Sergeants,  "he  moves  and  acts  exactly  like  a  police- 
man. He  never  runs  or  jumps  or  plays,  but  simply 
strolls  along.  He's  fond  of  janitors'  daughters,  and 
will  stand  stock  sdll  in  a  shadowy  doorway  for  hours  at 
a  stretch.  Not  a  man  in  the  precinct  has  ever  seen 
him  eat,  and  I'm  pretty  sure  that  the  general  public 
never  saw  him  drink.  And  then,  what  a  clever  dog  he 
is!  In  the  winter  of  '79,  on  the  loth  of  January,  if  my 
memory  serves,  Pete  was  walking  along  Greenwich 
street,  on  his  way  from  post  to  post,  when  he  saw  three 
men  at  the  basement  door  of  the  bonded  warehouses, 
Nos.  98,  100,  and  102.  A  moment  later,  and  the  men 
had  forced  the  door,  entered  the  building,  and  closed 
up  their  work  so  that  a  passing  glance  could  not  detect 
that  anything  had  been  tampered  with.  Pete  lay  down 
by  the  door  and  growled.  After  a  while  Officer 
Dougherty  came  along,  and  patting  the  dog  on  the 
head  walked  on,  expecting  the  dog  to  follow  him. 


WORK  OF  THE  POLICE. 


387 


Pete  never  moved,  but  growled  louder  than  before, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  that  door.  Dougherty  tried 
to  get  him  to  move,  but  it  wouldn't  do.  At  last  the 
officer  suspected  that  something  was  wrong.  He  exam- 
ined the  door,  then  rapped  for  assistance,  and  the  build- 
ing was  searched.  Two  of  the  burglars  were  captured. 
The  other  one  escaped.  About  three  o'clock  one 
morning  last  winter  Pete  was  trotting  along  Broad- 
way, when  he  discovered  a  broken  pane  of  glass  in  a 
clothing  store  near  Cedar  street.  He  stopped  at  once 
and  barked  like  mad.  Every  man  in  the  precinct  knows 
Pete's  voice.  Officer  Donnelly  ran  to  him  and  found 
that  there  had  been  a  light  robbery.  Whether  the  dog 
frightened  the  thieves  away  or  not,  we  never  knew. 
Another  time  the  dog  discovered  a  fire  at  240  Fulton 
street.  Pete  has  never  missed  his  turn  on  the  second 
^  platoon,  and  has  never  gone  out  with  any  other  than 
the  fourth  section  in  six  years." 

The  number  of  arrests  made  by  the  police  is  from 
70,000  to  75,000  annually,  sometimes  running  as  high 
as  80,000  to  82,000.  Of  these  more  than  one-fourth 
are  for  intoxication. 

Each  police  precinct  is  provided  with  a  station-house, 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  force  on  duty  and  the 
detention  of  prisoners.  These  are  so  located  as  to  be 
central  to  their  respective  precincts.  They  are  model 
buildings  of  their  kind,  being  generally  constructed  of 
red  brick,  with  stone  facings.  The  entrance  leads  di- 
rectly to  the  main  hall,  at  one  side  of  which  is  the  Ser- 
geant's desk,  generally  a  handsome  affair  of  black  wal- 
nut, with  a  standard  gas  lamp  at  each  side.  Behind 
this  desk  sits  the  Sergeant  on  duty,  and  before  him  is 


388 


NEW  YORK. 


the  "  Blotter,"  in  which  are  entered  the  arrests,  charges 
against  prisoners,  and  other  events  of  each  twenty-four 
hours.  The  room  is  provided  with  substantial  furni- 
ture, according  to  its  needs.  The  telegraph  instru- 
ment  is  placed  at  a  distance  from  the  windows  and 
entrance,  as  a  protection  to  it  in  case  of  an  attack  upon 
the  station.  It  is  of  a  peculiar  kind,  and  is  easily 
worked  by  any  person  of  ordinary  intelligence.  Speak- 
ing tubes  and  boxes  for  papers  communicate  with  the 
other  apartments.  In  the  rear  of  the  main  office  is  the 
waiting  room,  in  which  the  men  congregate  when  not 
on  duty.  On  the  same  floor  is  the  private  room  of  the 
Captain  commanding  the  precinct.  It  is  handsomely 
furnished,  and  is  fitted  up  as  a  chamber  and  office  com- 
bined, for  the  Captain  as  often  sleeps  here  as  at  home. 
The  upper  floors  contain  the  dormitories  of  the  Ser- 
geants, Roundsmen,  and  Patrolmen.  In  some  of  the , 
stations  the  cellar  contains  the  cells  of  the  prisoners, 
and  the  rooms  for  the  accommodation  of  persons  who 
have  nowhere  else  to  spend  the  night.  Two  such 
rooms  are  provided,  one  for  men  and  boys,  the  other 
for  women.  The  women's  room  is  in  charge  of  a  fe- 
male attendant.  In  other  stations  the  cells  and  lodg- 
ing rooms  are  located  in  an  annex,  back  of  the  main 
building.  Bath  rooms  and  other  conveniences  are  pro- 
vided for  the  officials  and  men  of  the  force,  and  the 
entire  station  is  kept  scrupulously  clean  and  neat 
Each  Patrolman  has  a  private  closet  for  his  clothing 
and  other  possessions,  and  each  bed  is  stamped  with 
the  section  number  of  its  occupant. 

As  prisoners  are  brought  in  by  the  Patrolmen,  the 
Sergeant  in  charge  hears  the  accusation  against  them, 


THE  tramps'  lodging  ROOM. 


389 


notes  it  down  in  the  Blotter,  and  orders  the  prisoner  to 
a  cell,  where  he  is  confined  until  the  next  day,  when  he 
is  sent  to  the  courts  for  trial. 

The  rooms  set  apart  for  lodging  tramps,  casuals,  and 
those  who  have  no  other  place  to  spend  the  night,  are 
furnished  with  Spartan  simplicity.  A  platform  with 
movable  planks  runs  along  the  longest  side,  and  some- 
times there  is  a  second  similar  platform  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room.  This  is  the  only  bed  provided,  and 
the  sleepers  must  make  the  best  of  it.  They  are  aroused 
at  daylight  and  turned  into  the  street,  after  which  the 
rooms  are  thoroughly  washed  by  means  of  a  hose,  and 
made  ready  for  their  next  occupants.  It  is  usually 
after  heavy  snow  storms,  or  long,  cold  rains,  that  the 
number  of  persons  who  seek  shelter  at  the  stations  is 
largest,  and  an  uncommonly  severe  winter  will  send 
an  extraordinary  number  of  vagrants  to  these  lodgings. 
Sometimes  they  are  so  full  that  there  is  no  more  room, 
and  then  hundreds  are  turned  away.  The  average  age 
of  the  lodgers  is  over  twenty-five,  but  some  few  boys 
are  to  be  found  among  them.  The  men  outnumber 
the  women  two  to  one.  Very  few  young  girls  apply 
for  lodgings  at  police  stations.  Most  of  the  female 
lodgers  are  women  past  middle  age,  dissipated  and  lost 
to  all  sense  of  decency,  although  occasionally  a  woman 
of  modest  appearance  is  found  among  them.  Both 
men  and  women  are,  in  the  main,  Irish,  German,  and 
Italian,  very  few  native  Americans  being  among  the 
applicants  for  shelter. 

The  majority  of  the  lodgers  are  professional  vagrants, 
and  sleep  regularly  at  the  station-houses.  They  are 
generally  found  to  have  been  drinking,  and  are  some- 


390 


NEW  YORK. 


times  so  drunk  and  disorderly  that  it  is  necessary  to 
lock  them  up  in  cells.  Their  names  are  recorded  in 
the  station-house  books,  and  they  are  said  to  show 
great  ingenuity  in  inventing  new  names  and  new 
stories  to  account  for  their  condition.  The  police 
place  little  confidence  in  what  they  say.  They  seldom 
lodge  at  the  same  station  house  two  nights  in  succes- 
sion, but  go  from  one  to  another,  hoping  to  be  for- 
gotten by  the  Sergeants  and  keepers  before  they  visit 
the  same  place  again.  Many  of  them  claim  to  have 
come  from  the  country,  having  been  driven  to  the  city 
by  the  sudden  setting  in  of  cold  weather,  and  the  con- 
sequent impossibility  of  getting  employment  on  the 
farms. 

The  lodgers  fare  roughly  in  the  stations.  When  one 
of  them  comes  in,  he  takes  one  of  the  planks  which 
must  be  his  bed,  and  places  it  on  the  frame  of  the 
platform  so  that  it  slants  from  head  to  foot,  and  lies 
down,  with  his  boots  for  a  pillow  and  his  coat  for  a 
covering.  If  there  are  but  few  persons  in  the  room  he 
may  have  two  or  three  planks,  but  after  he  is  asleep 
he  is  likely  to  be  rudely  dropped  to  the  floor  by  having 
the  extra  planks  jerked  from  under  him.  On  a  cold 
night  all  are  taken  early,  and  fifty  men  or  fifty  women 
lie  heaped  on  the  long  platform.  Next,  the  aisle  is 
occupied,  and  as  more  come  in  they  will  crawl  under 
the  platform,  until  a  mouse  could  hardly  tread  his  way 
through  this  mass  of  humanity.  Such  a  lodging  place 
at  12  o'clock  on  a  "full  night"  is  almost  as  vile  as  the 
"Black-hole''  of  Calcutta.  The  heat  comes  up  through 
the  gratings  in  the  floor,  and  the  presence  of  sixty  or 
seventy  unwashed,  gin  soaked  b9dies  adds  stenches 


THE  POLICE  SERGEANT. 


391 


indescribable;  while  the  snores  of  stentorian  breathers^ 
the  groaning  of  wakeful  lodgers,  and  driveling  of 
drunken  ones,  the  scream  of  some  frightened  dreamer^ 
and  the  querulous  wail  of  a  sick  child,  unite  to  make  a 
Babel  of  horrible  sounds.  A  single  flickering  gaslight 
sends  feeble  rays  through  the  laden  air,  and  every 
ray  touches  a  pile  of  rags  which  in  the  morning  will 
become  a  tramp. 

The  Sergeant  who  sits  behind  the  railed  enclosure  in 
the  main  room  of  the  station-house  sees  many  strange 
phases  of  life  in  his  hours  of  duty.  This  is  especially 
so  when  the  station-house  is  situated  in  a  populous 
tenement  house  district,  where  wrangles  between 
neighbors  are  constantly  going  on,  and  landlords  and 
tenants  are  in  perpetual  hot  water  with  each  other. 
The  differences  always  happening  between  these  twa 
sets  of  people  make  a  prominent  feature  in  the  com- 
plaint business  of  the  station-house.  The  Sergeant  sees, 
most  of  the  sad,  wretched  and  unwholesome  side  of 
existence,  and  very  little  of  its  brighter  and  more  en- 
couraging aspect.  If  he  be  a  man  of  kindly,  sympa- 
thetic nature,  he  must  be  greatly  moved  at  times;  but 
his  official  position  and  the  effect  of  long  familiarity 
with  cases  of  distress  and  wretchedness,  give  an  appa- 
rent callousness  to  his  manner  and  address.  He  comes 
to  act  his  part  with  an  even  mechanical  method,  and  is 
the  same  to  all  classes  and  conditions  of  people.  A 
man  who  considers  himself  grievously  wronged  will 
enter  the  station  and  point  out  to  the  Sergeant  with 
earnest  profusion  the  story  of  his  woes,  to  be  met  only 
with  a  few  laconic,  cold  responses,  that  chill  him  to  the 
very  marrow,  and  make  him  wonder  if  a  police  officer 


392 


NEW  YORK. 


has  any  heart  at  all.  An  old  officer  who  has  sat  at  the 
desk  for  the  course  of  a  few  years,  and  who  has  a 
shrewd  and  observant  turn  of  mind,  can  quickly  meas- 
ure the  importance  of  every  complaint  made  before 
him.  Some  Sergeants  become  expert  in  this  line,  and 
are  the  moral  barometers  of  their  precincts.  They  can 
furnish  as  accurate  a  diagnosis  of  the  moral  health  of 
their  districts,  by  a  reference  to  their  entry  books,  as  a 
doctor  can  tell  the  physical  condition  of  a  patient  by 
feeling  his  pulse. 

Let  us  take  our  seat  beside  Sergeant  at  one  of 

the  busiest  stations  in  the  city.  It  is  ten  o'clock,  and 
the  night  is  cold  and  keen  without,  but  the  room  is 
brightly  lighted,  warm  and  comfortable.  With  the 
exception  of  a  few  early  lodgers  who  have  been  given 
quarters,  no  one  has  put  in  an  appearance,  and  we  begin 
to  wonder  if  it  is  to  be  a  dull  night  after  all.  The 
Sergeant  smiles,  and  remarks  that  there  will  be  busi- 
ness enough  in  the  next  three  hours. 

The  door  opens  as  he  speaks,  and  a  woman  in  a 
faded  black  dress,  a  battered  bonnet,  and  a  very  dirty 
face  enters,  and  hesitatingly  approaches  the  desk. 

"Can  I  have  a  night's  lodging,  sir?"  she  asks. 

The  Sergeant  makes  no  reply  for  a  moment,  but 
gazes  at  her  with  curious  interest,  and  then  asks, 
abruptly : — 

"When  did  you  wash  your  face  last?" 

*T  washed  it  in  Bridgeport,  sir,"  she  answers;  "an* 
I've  come  from  there  to-day;  and  never  a  drop  o' 
wather  have  I  seen." 

"  Give  her  a  lodging,"  says  the  Sergeant,  nodding  to 
an  officer  standing  by.  "But,  see  here,"  he  adds  to 
the  woman,  "what  are  you  doing  in  New  York?" 


A  NIGHT  IN  A  POLICE  STATION. 


393 


*'Ah!  it's  a  long  story,  sir,"  she  begins.  "It  was  a 
rtian  that  was  the  cause  of  it,  an'  bad  luck  to  him.  He 
left  me,  after  deceivin'  me,  an'  I've  come  to  New  York 
to  find  him." 

"How  did  he  deceive  you?" 

**Oh,  the  way  they  always  do.  He  got  the  best  oi 
me  because  I  was  innocent,  an'  he  promised  to  marry 
me.  When  he  was  tired  of  me  he  landed  out,  an'  I've 
never  seen  him  since." 

''Where  do  you  expect  to  find  him?'' 

"Here,  in  this  city.  I'd  know  his  skin  on  a  bush,  an* 
ril  find  him  or  die." 

"Well,  you'd  better  take  a  rest  for  to-night." 

The  woman  goes  off  to  her  hard  bed  in  the  lodging- 
room,  and  the  office  is  silent  again ;  but  only  for  a 
short  while.  The  door  opens  again,  and  this  time  with 
a  crash,  and  an  officer  enters,  with  a  prisoner  in  his 
vise-like  grasp.  The  man's  coat  is  pulled  over  his 
head,  his  hat  is  gone,  the  blood  is  running  from  Ws 
nose,  and  his  gait  is  so  unsteady  that  he  would  cer- 
tainly fall  to  the  floor  but  for  the  firm  hold  of  the  po- 
liceman. His  shirt  front  is  covered  with  blood  and 
beer,  and  his  eyes  are  frenzied  and  bloodshot. 

"Well,  officer,  what  is  it?"  asks  the  Sergeant, 
taking  up  his  pen,  as  the  Patrolman  drags  his  prisoner 
to  the  desk. 

"  Drunk  and  disorderly,  sir,"  replies  the  policeman, 
"  Wanted  to  fight  everybody  he  met  on  the  street.  He 
got  pretty  badly  damaged  in  being  put  out  of  Schloss- 
heimer's  beer  saloon,  and  I  had  to  take  him  in  charge." 

"  What  is  your  name,  and  where  do  you  live?"  asks 
the  Sergeant  of  the  prisoner. 


394 


NEW  YORK. 


The  man  gives  his  name  and  address,  in  a  sort  of 
incoherent  manner,  and  is  sent  back  to  a  cell,  while  the 
Sergeant  jots  down  the  circumstances  of  the  arrest  in 
his  "  Blotter." 

The  door  opens  again,  and  a  woman,  neatly  draped 
in  mourning,  and  with  a  pale,  sad  face,  enters  timidly 
and  approaches  the  desk.  In  a  low  voice  she  asks 
the  Sergeant  if  he  can  tell  her  of  any  respectable  place 
in  the  neighborhood  where  she  can  obtain  a  lodging 
at  a  moderate  price.  Her  manner  is  that  of  a  lady, 
and  the  Sergeant  listens  with  respect  to  her  request, 
and  gives  her  the  address  of  such  a  place  as  she  de- 
sires. In  the  same  low  tone  she  thanks  him,  and  dis . 
appears,  and  the  stern  face  of  the  officer  of  the  law  for 
a  moment  has  a  troubled  expression. 

The  door  is  thrown  open  violently  once  more,  and 
two  flashily  dressed  young  women  enter,  and  hurry 
forward  to  the  desk.  Their  faces  are  flushed,  they  are 
greatly  excited,  and  have  evidently  been  drinking. 
They  begin  their  story  together,  talking  loudly  and 
angrily.     They  will  not  stand  it  any  longer,  they 

declare.    Madame    owes  them  money,  and  they 

"are  going  to  have  it,  or  raise  ."    The  Sergeant. 

who  has  listened  patiently,  mildly  interposes  with  the 
hope  that  nothing  of  the  kind  will  be  raised  in  the 
station-house,  and  then  asks: — 

"How  much  does  she  owe  you  ?" 

"Twenty-five  dollars  each,"  they  reply,  in  one  voice. 

"And  why  don't  she  pay  you  ?" 

"Because  she  thinks  by  keeping  herself  in  our  debt 
we  won't  leave  her,"  they  respond  together;  •  "and 
we  want  a  policeman  to  come  along  and  make  her 
fork  over." 


DRUNK  AND  DISORDERLY. 


395 


The  Sereeant  considers  for  a  moment,  and  then  de- 
clares  that  the  matter  does  not  come  within  the  juris- 
diction of  the  pohce,  and  that  he  can  do  nothing  for 
them.  They  stare  at  him  in  blank  amazement  for 
awhile,  and  then  flounce  out  of  the  room,  loudly  cursing 
the  whole  police  force,  and  the  Sergeant  in  particular. 

-The  next  comer  is  in  charo-e  of  another  officer.  He 

o 

is  very  dirty,  and  wretchedly  drunk.  His  tall  hat  is 
mashed  in,  and  there  is  mud  stickino-  to  his  hair.  He 
is  placed  before  the  desk. 

"Drunk  and  disorderly,  sir,"  ^ays  the  patrolman. 
"I  caught  him  climbing  a  Third  avenue  Elevated  Rail- 
road pillar.  He  said  he  always  went  up  to  his  room 
by  way  of  the  fire  escape  when  he  came  home  late." 

The  prisoner  is  silent,  but  tries  to  listen  to  the 
officer,  and  fixes  upon  the  Sergeant  as  solemn  a  look 
as  his  bleared  eyes  will  permit.  He  is  too  drunk  to 
give  his  name,  and  is  sent  to  a  cell,  where  he  is  soon 
in  a  drunken  slumber. 

Toward  midnight  a  poor  woman,  shabbily  dressed, 
with  a  thin,  well-worn  shawl  around  her  head  enters, 
and  approaches  the  desk. 

"Can  you  tell  me  if  anything  has  been  heard  of  my 
husband  yet?"  she  asks — the  same  question  she  has 
repeated  every  day  for  the  past  week. 

"No,  ma'am,  nothing,"  answers  the  Sergeant  briefly; 
but  his  eyes  as  he  glances  at  the  poor,  sorrowful 
creature,  have  a  pitying  look  in  them. 

"What  was  your  husband's  business?" 

"He  was  a  stevedore,  sir." 

"And  you  were  married  to  him  how  long?'* 

"Eleven  years  and  over,  sir.    We  had  five  children, 


396 


NEW  YORK. 


all  dead  now  but  the  youngest.  He  was  a  good  hus- 
band to  me;  but  he  took  a  drop  too  much  now  and 
then,  and  was  cross  and  noisy.  He  left  the  house  three 
weeks  ago,  and  we  have  never  seen  him  since." 

"Did  he  leave  you  any  money?" 

"  He  left  us  nothing,  sir.  The  child  and  myself  lives 
on  the  charity  of  neighbors;  but  we  can't  expect  to 
live  that  way  always." 

"Well,  I'll  speak  to  the  Captain,"  says  the  Sergeant 
kindly,  "and  see  what  can  be  done  for  you,  and  if  a 
dollar  will  do  you  any  good,  here  it  is."  And  the  good- 
hearted  Sergeant  passes  a  silver  coin  over  the  desk, 
and  sends  the  woman  away  sobbing  out  her  expressions 
of  gratitude. 

Loud  voices  are  heard  on  the  station  steps  as  the 
woman  passes  out,  the  door  is  thrown  open,  and  six 
well  dressed  men  enter,  accompanied  by  two  police- 
men. They  approach  the  desk,  talking  excitedly,  and 
charges  and  counter-charges,  mixed  with  much  slang 
and  profanity,  are  brought  before  the  Sergeant,  who 
sits  stolidly  gazing  at  the  party,  waiting  for  a  return  of 
something  like  order.  There  is  a  lull  in  the  talking, 
and  one  of  the  policemen  states  that  two  of  the  men 
have  been  engaged  in  a  drunken  assault  at  a  political 
primary  held  in  the  neighborhood,  and  that  the  others 
have  come  to  prefer  charges  against  them.  The 
charges  are  made  and  entered  in  the  Blotter,  and  the 
accused  then  prefer  counter-charges  against  the  other 
four,  but  as  the  policemen  do  not  sustain  them,  the  accu- 
sers are  suffered  to  depart,  and  the  accused  are  sent  to 
a  cell,  where  they  raise  a  tremendous  racket. 

As  the  officials  are  departing  for  their  beats  again, 


AN  ATTEMPT  ATSUICIBE  FOILED. 


AN  ATTEMPT  AT  SUICIDE. 


397 


two  more  enter,  this  time  having  in  custody  two  hand- 
somely dressed,  fashionable  looking  youths,  whose 
flushed  faces  show  they  have  been  drinking,  but  not 
enough  to  prevent  them  from  feeling  the  shame  of  their 
position. 

"  Drunk  and  disorderly,  sir,"  says  the  officer.  Kicked 
over  an  old  woman's  peanut  stand  in  the  street,  knocked 
all  her  stuff  into  the  mud,  and  then  tried  to  run  away." 

"But,  Sergeant,"  pleads  one  of  the  youths,  "it  was 
only  for  a  lark,  you  see.  We'll  make  it  all  right  in  the 
morning  with  the  old  woman." 

"Your  names  and  addresses?"  asks  the  Sergeant, 
coldly. 

They  are  given,  but  are  evidently  fictitious. 

"It  was  only  a  lark.  Sergeant,"  begins  the  young 
man  who  has  spoken  before.    "We  didn't  mean  " 

"Lock  them  up,"  says  the  Sergeant,  cutting  him 
short.  ''You  can  state  all  that  to  the  court  in  the 
morninof." 

And  they  are  led  away. 

The  silence  that  has  fallen  over  the  room  after  the 
young  men  have  been  led  out  is  rudely  broken  by  the 
hast}-  entrance  of  an  officer  from  the  direction  of  the 
cells.    He  is  pale  and  excited. 

"Sergeant,"  he  exclaims,  "the  woman  in  Number 
Ten  has  committed  suicide.    She's  hung  herself" 

The  Sergeant  springs  up,  tells  the  officer  to  take 
charge  of  the  room,  and  hurries  to  the  cells.  We  fol- 
low him.  The  door  in  Number  Ten  is  wide  open,  and 
the  doorman  is  in  the  act  of  cutting  down  the  woman, 
who  has  suspended  herself  by  means  of  a  line  made  of 
her  garters.    He  lays  her  on  the  floor  of  the  cell,  and 


398 


NEW  YORK. 


he  and  the  Sergeant  bend  over  and  gaze  into  the 
bloated  face.  The  woman  is  not  dead,  and  exhibits 
signs  of  returning  life.  Efforts  are  made  to  restore 
her,  and  are  successful.  As  she  recovers  her  con- 
sciousness she  raises  herself  on  her  elbow,  and  glaring 
around  savagely,  curses  bitterly  the  men  who  have 
saved  her  from  death,  and  begs  for  a  drink  of  whisky. 
No  liquor  is  given  her,  however,  and  when  the  officers 
are  satisfied  that  she  is  out  of  danger,  she  is  hand- 
cuffed, to  prevent  her  from  attempting  further  violence. 
The  rest  of  the  night  she  keeps  the  place  Hvely  with 
her  yells  and  blasphemous  cries.  • 

We  return  to  the  desk  with  the  Sergeant,  who  eaters 
the  occurrence  in  the  Blotter.  We  are  scarcely  seated, 
when  two  of  the  worst-looking  tramps  to  be  found  in 
New  York  enter,  and  come  up  to  the  desk. 

"Cap'n,"  exclaims  one  of  them,  in  a  thick  voice, 
*'  let's  have  a  shake-down  for  me  and  my  pard,  for  the 
night?" 

"All  right,"  says  the  Sergeant.  "  Show  these  men 
back." 

The  tramp  who  has  spoken,  encouraged  by  the  ready 
granting  of  his  request,  says  coolly: — 

"You  hain't  got  a  chew  o'  tobaccer,  Cap'n,  you  can 
let  a  fellow  have  ?" 

"  No,  I  hain't,"  answers  the  Sergeant,  imitating  the 
voice  and  expression  of  the  tramp ;  "  but  I'll  send  you 
in  an  oyster  supper  presently,  with  a  bottle  of  Mumm's 
Extra  Dry,  and  a  bunch  of  Henry  Clay's ;  and  per- 
haps some  of  the  other  delicacies  of  the  season,  if  they 
are  to  be  had." 

The  tramps  laugh  at  this  sally,  and  follow  the  officer 
to  the  lodging  room. 


A  STATION-HOUSE  MASQUERADE. 


399 


Half  an  hour  later  four  policemen  enter  the  room 
bearing  a  stretcher,  on  which  is  laid  a  badly  wounded " 
man,  while  two  more  lead  in  the  assailant,  who  is 
securely  handcuffed,  and  bears  the  marks  of  the 
officers'  clubs.  He  had  assaulted  and  stabbed  the 
wounded  man  in  a  brawl  in  a  saloon;  had  resisted  the 
officers  who  attempted  to  arrest  him;  and  had  proved 
so  dangerous  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  club  and 
handcuff  him.  A  telegram  is  sent  to  the  New  York 
Hospital  for  an  ambulance,  and  the  statements  of  the 
wounded  man  and  the  officials  taken  down  by  the 
Sergeant.  The  name  and  address  of  the  prisoner  are 
also  written  down,  and  he  is  sent  to  a  cell  with  the 
irons  still  on  him.  In  a  short  while  the  ambulance 
arrives  and  the  wounded  man  is  taken  away  to  the 
hospital. 

Shortly  after  two  o'clock  another  detachment  of 
officers  bring  in  a  batch  of  about  twenty  prisoners, 
male  and  female.  They  are  dressed  in  all  manner  of 
fancy  costumes.  Here  are  Dukes,  Don  Caesars,  Ham- 
lets, Little  Buttercups,  Indian  princesses  and  warriors, 
and  the  like.  They  have  been  to  a  fancy  ball,  and  left 
it  so  very  drunk  that  they  fell  to  fighting  among  them- 
selves in  the  street,  and  were  taken  into  custody  by 
the  officials.  They  are  a  motley  lot  indeed,  and  lend 
a  strange  aspect  to  the  station.  They  appear  to  feel 
the  ludicrousness  of  their  position,  and  beg  to  be  let 
off;  but  the  Sergeant  has  no  discretion,  for  the  tes- 
timony of  the  officials  is  positive,  and  the  charge  is  a 
serious  one.  So  they  go  back  to  the  cells,  and  in  the 
morning  will  appear  in  full  costume  before  the  Court 
of- Sessions,  to  answer  the  charges  against  them. 


400 


NEW  YORK. 


So  the  hours  of  darkness  pass  away,  and  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night  is  but  a  repetition  of  many  of  the 
scenes  we  have  described. 

The  Mounted  Police,  though  a  part  of  the  regular 
force,  constitute  a  distinct  squad,  and  have  their  station- 
house  in  East  85  th  street.  They  are  assigned  to  duty 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  city  and  the  suburbs;  are 
harjdsomely  mounted,  and  make  a  fine  appearance 
on  parade.  They  are  twenty-two  in  number,  are  all 
picked  men,  who  have  served  honorably  in  the  army 
of  the  United  States,  and  are  therefore  experienced 
horsemen. 

Each  officer  has  full  care  of  his  horse  and  equip- 
ments and  is  responsible  for  their  proper  treatment. 
Nine  hours'  patrol  duty  is  required  each  day,  but  there 
is  no  night  duty  except  in  case  of  emergency.  The 
horses  are  the  best  that  can  be  had,  are  all  bays,  and 
are  selected  with  special  reference  to  this  work.  It 
takes  about  six  months  to  break  them  in  so  that  they 
can  be  safely  used  to  catch  a  runaway  team,  or  allowed 
to  stand  alone  while  the  officer  dismounts  to  make  an 
arrest.  Some  of  them  are  very  intelligent  animals,  and 
become  greatly  attached  to  the  men  who  ride  them. 
The  older  ones,  when  an  arrest  is  to  be  made,  will  stand 
with  their  front  feet  on  the  sidewalk  waiting  for  the 
officer  to  come  out  with  his  prisoner,  when  they  will 
gently  follow  on  to  the  station-house.  Some  of  them 
will  not  allow  a  citizen  to  approach  or  catch  them  du- 
ring any  excitement.  One  of  the  officers  gives  his 
horse  the  credit  of  saving  him  from  a  severe  handling 
while  making  an  arrest  for  assault  and  battery  in  a 
group  of  shanties  on  7 2d  street  near  First  avenue. 
He  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  sturdy  Irish  women, 


THE  MOUNTED  POLICE. 


401 


armed  with  sticks,  stones,  and  everything  they  could 
lay  hands  on.  The  prisoner  fought  desperately,  and 
tore  the  uniform  of  the  officer  nearly  to  pieces  while 
struggling  to  escape,  and  would  have  succeeded,  but 
that  the  old  horse,  appreciating  the  danger,  dashed  in, 
and  by  prancing  and  kicking  up  his  heels  kept  the 
women  at  a  distance  until  the  officer  had  gotten  clear 
out  of  reach  with  his  prisoner  safely  in  custody.  The 
number  of  arrests  made  by  the  mounted  squad  for 
felonies  of  various  kinds  will  compare  favorably  with 
those  of  any  other  up-town  precinct. 

The  Mounted  Police  have  other  and  equally  import- 
ant duties  to  perform,  besides  making  arrests.  As 
their  posts  are  laid  out  on  the  principal  drives,  they  are 
required  to  look  sharply  after  runaway  teams.  During 
the  sleighing  season  runaways  are  of  daily  occurrence, 
but  it  rarely  happens  that  the  officer  fails  to  stop  the 
team.  In  case  of  fire  the  men  do  good  service  by 
riding  speedily  to  the  nearest  signal  box,  and  sending 
out  the  alarm,  after  which  they  hasten  to  the  police  sta 
tion  and  give  the  particulars  to  the  Sergeant. 

Since  the  annexation  of  Morrisania  and  North  New 
York,  seven  mounted  men  from  the  squad  patrol  that 
district  every  day,  leaving  their  station  in  the  morning 
looking  very  much  like  soldiers  starting  on  a  scout, 
with  rations  for  their  horses  strapped  on  behind  the 
saddle.  They  remain  away  all  day,  and  feed  their 
horses  at  gentlemen's  places  in  the  suburbs.  In  the 
summer  time  they  eat  their  noon  lunch  by  the  roadside. 
They  are  the  terror  of  tramps  and  vagrants  in  these 
regions,  and  a  welcome  protection  to  the  families  along 
their  routes. 

26 


402 


NEW  YORK. 


The  Twenty-fourth  Precinct  consists  of  the  Harbor 
Police,  and  its  station  is  on  the  steamboat  Seneca, 
which  lies  at  the  foot  of  3d  street,  in  the  East  River, 
when  not  on  duty.  The  men  live  on  the  steamer,  and 
patrol  the  water  front  of  the  city  in  row  boats.  One 
of  these  boats  guards  the  North  River  front,  and 
another  the  East  River  front.  They  go  up  with  the 
flow  of  the  tide  and  return  on  the  ebb.  They  row 
along  the  -dark  and  silent  wharves,  watching  the  ship- 
ping, look  under  the  piers  for  the  concealed  boats  of 
the  river  thieves,  strain  their  ears  to  catch  the  sound 
of  muffled  oars,  and  sometimes  have  a  sharp  conflict 
with  the  river  thieves,  in  which  revolvers  are  freely 
used  on  both  sides.  It  is  hard  work,  and  on  the  dark, 
tempestuous  nights  of  winter,  when  the  wind  is  whist- 
ling through  the  rigging  of  the  vessels  at  the  wharves, 
and  the  surface  of  the  river  is  roughened  into  a  con- 
siderable sea,  it  is  dangerous.  Yet  these  are  the  times 
when  the  Harbor  Police  must  be  most  alert,  for  they 
are  the  nights  on  which  the  river  thieves  are  the  most 
industrious.  The  police  do  their  work  well,  however. 
Millions  of  dollars  worth  of  property  are  in  their 
keeping,  and  they  guard  it  faithfully.  Considering  all 
this,  it  does  seem  strange  that  they  should  be  required 
to  perform  such  arduous  labors.  Several  silent,  swift 
steam  launches  would  greatly  lighten  their  labors  and 
add  much  to  their  proficiency.  Yet  New  York,  with 
all  its  wealth,  has  never  seen  fit  to  strengthen  the 
hands  of  the  men  upon  whose  promptness  and  fidelity 
the  safety  of  so  much  of  that  wealth  depends. 

The  annual  cost  of  the  police  force  to  the  city  is 
j^4,ooo,ooo ;    a   sum  much  larger  than  is  expended 


THE  POLICE  LIFE  INSURANCE  FUND.  403 

in  either  London  or  Paris  for  police  purposes.  The 
citizens,  however,  do  not  grumble  at  this.  So  long  as 
the  police  are  faithful  and  efficient  they  are  willing 
they  should  be  well  paid.  Nor  is  the  city  altogether 
unmindful  of  the  brave  men  who  watch  over  its  safety. 
The  Police  Law  contains  the  following  clause : — 

"If  any  member  of  the  Municipal  Police  Force,  whilst 
in  the  actual  performance  of  duty,  shall  become  per- 
manently disabled,  so  as  to  render  his  dismissal  from 
membership  proper,  or  if  any  such  member  shall 
become  superannuated  after  ten  years  of  membership, 
a  sum,  not  exceeding  $150,  as  an  annuity,  to  be  paid 
such  member,  shall  be  chargeable  upon  the  Municipal 
Police  Life  Insurance  Fund.  If  any  member  of  the 
Municipal  Police  Force,  whilst  in  the  actual  discharge 
of  his  duty,  shall  be  killed,  or  shall  die  from  the  imme- 
mediate  effect  of  any  injury  received  by  him,  whilst  in 
such  discharge  of  duty^  or  shall  die  after  ten  years'  ser- 
vice in  the  force,  and  shall  leave  a  widow,  and  if  no 
widow,  any  child  or  children  under  sixteen  years,  a  like 
sum  by  way  of  annuity  shall  become  chargeable  upon 
the  said  fund,  to  be  paid  to  such  widow  so  long  only  as 
she  remains  unmarried,  or  to  such  child  or  children  so 
long  as  said  child,  or  the  youngest  of  said  children, 
continues  under  the  age  of  sixteen  years.  In  every 
case  the  Board  of  Municipal  Police  shall  determine  the 
circumstances  thereof,  and  order  payment  of  the  an- 
nuity to  be  made  by  draft,  signed  by  each  trustee  of 
the  said  fund.  But  nothing  herein  contained  shall 
render  any  payment  of  said  annuity  obligatory  upon 
the  said  Board,  or  the  said  trustees,  or  chargeable  as 
matter  of  legal  right." 


404 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  FERRIES. 

TIBW  YORK'S  ONLV  MEANS  OF  COMMUNICATION  WITH  THE  MAIN  LAND— NUMBER  OF  FBRRIES— 
THE  FERRY  BOATS — CROSSING  IN  A  FOG — ANNOYANCES  OF  FERRY  TRAVEL— THE  PKHRY 
HOUSES — A  MOONLIGHT  RIDE  ON  A  FBREY   BOAT — A  SUICIDE — ACCIDENTS. 

The  situation  of  New  York  being  upon  an  island, 
with  a  large  portion  of  its  population  residing  upon  the 
opposite  shores  of  the  waters  which  surround  it,  with 
two  large  cities  and  several  important  towns  lying  op- 
posite or  near  it,  and  with  almost  all  of  its  principal 
railway  lines  terminating  on  the  New  Jersey  shore,  one 
of  the  chief  needs  of  the  city  is  an  extensive  and  well- 
arranged  ferry  system.  The  system  has  grown  with 
the  necessities  of  the  city,  and  now  comprises  about 
twenty-six  lines,  plying  between  New  York  and  the 
shores  of  Long  Island,  West  Chester  County,  New 
Jersey,  and  Staten  Island.  Of  these  lines,  fourteen  are 
to  Brooklyn  and  adjacent  points  on  Long  Island,  seven 
to  Jersey  City  and  points  on  the  New  Jersey  shore, 
one  to  Harlem,  one  to  Mott  Haven,  and  two  to  Staten 
Island.  Ten  lines  cross  the  North  River,  and  sixteen 
the  East  River,  and  transport  about  125,000,000  per- 
sons annually,  besides  a  vast  number  of  vehicles  of 
every  description. 

As  a  rule,  the  ferries  are  well  managed.  The  fare 
to  the  Jersey  shore  is  three  cents,  to  Brooklyn  two 
cents,  and  to  Staten  Island  ten  cents.  The  boats  run 
regularly  at  frequent  intervals,  from  six  o'clock  until 


406 


NEW  YORK. 


midnight ;  and  on  some  of  the  lines,  half  hourly  from 
midnight  to  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  They  are  large 
and  powerful  side-wheel  steamers,  constructed  on  the 
double-end  system,  with  a  pilot-house  at  each  end. 
The  centre  is  devoted  to  vehicles  and  horses,  and  on 
each  side  is  a  comfortable  cabin,  with  seats  extending 
the  whole  length  of  the  boat ;  one  for  ladies,  the  other 
for  men.  They  carry  as  many  as  looo  passengers  at 
a  single  trip,  at  certain  hours  of  the  day,  with  a  propor- 
tionate load  of  vehicles.  They  are  handsomely  fitted 
up,  and  on  the  principal  lines  are  lighted  with  gas  and 
heated  by  steam. 

The  passage  of  the  rivers  is  made  quickly  and  with- 
out difficulty  in  fair  weather,  but  when  the  rivers  are 
filled  with  floating  ice,  or  shrouded  in  heavy  fogs,  one 
or  more  hours  are  sometimes  consumed  in  a  trip  which 
usually  requires  but  a  few  minutes.  During  a  fog  the 
trip  is  exciting  beyond  description.  The  dense  mist 
hides  the  entire  river  and  the  opposite  shores  from 
view,  and  the  pilots  must  trust  to  their  compasses  for 
the  accuracy  of  their  course  on  such  occasions.  On 
every  hand  is  heard  the  hoarse  whistle  of  steamers  in 
the  river,  and  the  tolling  of  the  bells  at  the  landings  on 
the  shore.  The  boats  proceed  slowly  and  cautiously, 
stopping  frequently,  and  the  passengers  crowd  to  the 
forward  end,  silent  and  anxious,  and  peering  eagerly 
into  the  gloom.  A  steamer  glides  by  like  a  phantom 
in  the  mist,  and  the  next  instant  is  lost,  and  oftentimes 
grazes  the  side  of  the  ferry  boat  sharply,  narrowly 
escaping  a  collision.  At  last,  when  the  opposite  shore 
looms  up  dimly,  and  the  boat  glides  slowly  but  surely 
'  into  her  dock,  the  passengers  breathe  freely,  thankful 

! 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  FRONT. 


407 


that  danger  has  once  more  been  passed,  and  glad  to 
set  foot  again  upon  terra  Jirma. 

With  the  exception  of  a  single  line  (the  New  York 
Central),  all  the  great  trunk  lines  from  the  West  and 
South  terminate  in  Jersey  City,  and  few  visitors  to  New 
York  enter  the  city  without  making  the  acquaintance 
of  the  ferries.  Thousands  of  persons  doing  business 
in  the  city  and  residing  in  New  Jersey,  Brooklyn,  Long 
Island,  or  Staten  Island,  are  dependent  on  them  daily, 
and  are  often  subjected  to  vexatious  delays  in  seasons 
of  fog,  ice,  or  snow. 

The  ferry  houses  are  handsome  structures  as  a  rule. 
They  are  built  of  wood,  and  are  provided  with  comfort- 
able waiting  rooms  for  the  accommodation  of  passen- 
gers. At  the  water's  edge  are  slips  with  floating 
bridges  which  can  be  lowered  or  raised  with  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  the  tide,  and  in  these  the  boats  lie  securely 
moored  until  the  moment  of  departure  arrives. 

A  constant  stream  of  travel  ebbs  and  flows  across 
the  great  rivers.  From  early  morn  until  noon  the  rush 
is  towards  New  York,  and  in  the  afternoon  and  until 
late  at  night  the  throng  pours  out  of  the  city. 

No  greater  pleasure  can  be  enjoyed  by  the  visitor  to 
the  Metropolis  than  a  ride  over  one  of  the  ferries  by 
night.  The  river  is  alive  with  the  lights  of  the  vessels 
lying  in  the  stream,  at  anchor  along  the  shores,  or 
gliding  swiftly  by  over  the  dark  waters.  The  long 
rows  of  lamps  on  the  opposite  sides  of  the  river 
stretch  away  in  unbroken  lines  of  light  The  boats 
are  brilliantly  lighted,  and  are  filled  with  lively  throngs. 
Vessels  glide  swiftly  and  silently  by,  exchanging  sig- 
<ials  by  sharp  blasts  of  a  whistle  or  the  tolling  of  bells. 


408 


NEW  YORK. 


A  party  of  strolling  musicians  enliven  the  scene  with 
the  sounds  of  music,  and  the  sharp  click  of  the 
machinery  of  the  boat  blends  harmoniously  with  the 
rush  of  the  water  as  the  steamer  pursues  its  onward 
course.  Suddenly  there  is  a  rush  to  the  side  of  the 
boat,  and  a  cry  of  alarm.  A  ghostly  figure  gleams  for 
a  moment  on  the  surface  of  the  water  and  then  disap- 
pears. Some  unhappy  soul  has  sought  refuge  from  the 
sorrows  of  the  world  *'in  the  hush  of  the  rolling  river." 
The  boat  is  stopped,  a  careful  lookout  is  kept,  but  the 
suicide  is  seen  no  more,  and  the  steamer  resumes  its 
course. 

Accidents  are  common  on  the  ferry  boats,  especially 
during  fogs.  Sometimes  the  loss  of  life  is  great;  again 
the  only  damage  is  that  sustained  by  the  boat  Once 
or  twice  a  steamer  has  taken  fire  in  mid  stream,  and 
the  disaster  has  been  appalling.  The  boats  are  so 
crowded,  that  in  case  of  trouble  a  great  loss  of  life  is 
inevitable. 


THE  TOMBS. 


409 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  PRISONS  OF  NEW  YORK. 

THE  TOMBS — DESCRIPTION   OF    THE    BUILDING  THE    INTERIOR — THE    "BRIDGE   OF  SIGHS"  

PLACE    OF    EXECUTION  -  THE    MALE  PRISON — THE     CELLS — THE     WOMEN's  PRISON — THB 

"bummers'  hall" — THE  WARDEn's  OFFICE — THE  "SWELL  CELLS" — THE  BOY's  PRISON  

RELIGIOUS  services — GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  TOMBS— WARDEN  FINN — THE  MATRON— A 
PRISON    OF    DETENTION — NOTED     ESCAPES     FROM    THE  TOMBS — "  BLACK     MARIA  " — THB 

POLICE  COURT — HOW   PRISONERS  ARE   DISPOSED   OF — THE   COURT    OF    SPECIAL  SESSIONS  

THE  "tombs  shysters" — LUDLOW  STREET  JAIL — THB  SHERIFF'S  PRISON — IMPRISONMENT 
FOR  DEBT — CAPTIVE  MILITIAMEN— FEDERAL  PRISONERS— EXTORTIONS  PRACTICED  UPOW 
PRISONERS- HOW  THE  DEPUTY  SHERIFFS  BLEED  THEIR  VICTIMS. 

I. 

THE  TOMBS. 

In  official  circles  the  principal  prison  of  New  York 
is  known  as  "The  Halls  of  Justice,"  but  the  popular 
name  of  the  edifice  is  "The  Tombs."  It  is  a  massive 
structure  of  granite,  in  the  Eg}^ptian  style  of  architec- 
ture, and  occupies  the  square  bounded  by  Centre,  Elm, 
Franklin  and  Leonard  streets.  It  was  erected  be- 
tween 1835  3.nd  1838,  and  occupies  the  site  of  the  old 
Collect  Pond,  from  which  the  city  was  once  supplied 
with  drinking  water,  and  which  was  filled  up  in  1835- 
The  building  is  one  of  the  most  imposing  structures 
of  the  Metropolis,  but  its  wretched  situation,  which  is 
in  a  deep  hollow,  sadly  mars  its  appearance.  It  is 
constructed  of  granite,  in  the  shape  of  a  parallelogram, 
253  feet  long  by  200  feet  deep.  From  the  street  it 
appears  but  a  single  story  in  height,  the  lofty  windows 
being  carried  from  a  point  a  few  feet  above  the  ground, 
almost  to  the  cornice.    The  principal  entrance  is  in 


410 


NEW  YORK, 


Centre  street,  and  is  reached  by  a  broad  flight  of  dark 
stone  steps,  which  lead  to  a  massive  and  gloomy 
portico,  supported  by  four  immense  Egyptian  columns. 
Projecting  entrances  and  columns  break  the  outer 
walls  on  the  other  three  sides,  and  give  variety  to  the 
otherwise  monotonous  style.    The  site  of  the  prison  is 


THE  TOMBS. 


low,  damp  and  unhealthy,  and  successive  Grand  Juries 
have  repeatedly  condemned  the  building  as  unfit  for 
its  purposes.  It  was  built  to  accommodate  about  two 
hundred  prisoners,  but  of  late  years  more  than  double  # 
that  number  have  been  confined  in  it.  The  founda- 
tions have  settled  in  some  places  to  a  considerable 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  TOMBS. 


411 


extent,  owing  to  the  marshy  character  of  the  ground, 
and  the  building  has  been  pronounced  unsafe. 

Passing  in  through  the  gloomy  entrance,  the  visitor 
finds  himself  in  a  large  courtyard,  in  the  centre  of 
which  stands  a  second  prison,  one  hundred  and  forty- 
two  feet  long  by  forty-five  feet  deep,  containing  one 
hundred  and  fifty  cells.  This  is  the  male  prison,  and 
is  entirely  separated  from  the  prison  for  females.  It  is 
connected  with  the  outer  building  by  a  bridge,  known 
as  "  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,"  since  all  condemned  prison- 
ers  pass  over  it  on  the  way  to  their  death.  Executions 
are  always  conducted  here  in  private,  and  are  witnessed 
only  by  the  officers  of  the  law  and  such  persons  as 
they  see  fit  to  admit.  The  gallows  is  set  up  in  the 
courtyard,  near  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  and  is  taken  down 
as  soon  as  the  tragedy  is  over. 

The  male  prison  contains  a  lofty  but  narrow  hall, 
with  four  tiers  of  cells,  opening  upon  the  floor  and 
upon  three  iron  galleries,  one  above  another.  Two 
keepers  are  placed  on  duty  in  each  gallery,  to  guard 
the  prisoners.  The  cells  are  intended  for  two  occu- 
pants, but  are  often  forced  to  accommodate  three. 
Each  tier  has  its  particular  uses.  In  some  of  the 
ground-floor  cells  are  placed  the  convicts  or  prisoners 
under  sentence  ;  the  second  tier  is  devoted  to  prisoners 
charged  with  grave  offences,  such  as  murder,  arson,  and 
the  more  serious  crimes  ;  the  third  tier  is  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  prisoners  charged  with  burglary,  grand 
larceny,  and  like  crimes  ;  and  the  fourth  tier  is  devoted 
to  persons  accused  of  light  offences.  The  cells  on  the 
ground  floor  are  the  largest,  while  those  of  the  fourth 
tier  are  the  smallest ;  the  former  are  very  commodious. 


412 


NEW  YORK. 


but  the  latter  are  scarcely  large  enough  for  two 
inmates. 

The  woman's  prison  occupies  the  Leonard  street 
side  of  the  Tombs,  and  contains  fifty  cells.  It  is  in 
charge  of  a  matron. 

The  Franklin  street  side  of  the  buildings  was  for- 
merly fitted  up  as  a  station-house  for  the  police  of  the 
district,  but  it  has  lately  been  converted  into  a  single 
large  hall.  This  is  known  as  "  the  Bummers'  Hall," 
and  here  are  confined  the  tramps,  vagrants,  and  per- 
sons arrested  for  drunkenness  and  disorder  in  the 
streets.  They  are  kept  until  the  morning  after  their 
arrest,  when  they  are  brought  before  the  courts  for 
trial.  Persons  sentenced  to  confinement  for  ten  days, 
or  for  a  shorter  time,  are  also  imprisoned  here. 

The  Centre  street  side  contains  the  offices  and  resi- 
dence of  the  Warden,  the  Police  Court,  and  the  Court 
af  Special  Sessions.  Over  the  Centre  street  entrance 
are  six  comfortable  cells,  for  the  use  of  prisoners  who 
can  afford  to  pay  for  them.  The  windows  of  these 
cells  look  out  upon  the  street,  so  that  the  inmates  are 
not  entirely  separated  from  the  world  about  them. 
Forgers,  defaulters,  and  criminals  who  have  moved  in 
the  higher  walks  of  life,  are  the  occupants  of  these 
cells.  The  Boys'  Prison  is  also  located  in  the  Centre 
street  side. 

The  Women's  and  Boys'  Prisons  are  in  charge  of 
the  Sisters  of  Charity,  who  endeavor  to  minister  to  the 
spiritual  wants  of  the  inmates.  One  of  the  rooms  of 
the  prison  is  fitted  up  as  a  chapel,  and  religious  services 
are  regularly  held  in  it.  The  week  is  divided  among 
the  various  religfious  denomination's,  as  follows  :  Sun- 


PRISON  DISCIPLINE. 


413 


day  and  Tuesday  mornings  are  given  to  the  Roman 
Catholics;  Sunday  and  Tuesday  afternoons  to  the 
Episcopalians;  Monday  to  the  Methodists;  and  the 
other  days  of  the  week  to  such  other  denominations  as 
may  wish  to  avail  themselves  of  them.  Sometimes  a 
Protestant  clerg>'man  will  hold  religious  services  in  the 
corridor  of  the  male  prison,  so  that  the  prisoners  may 
listen  to  them  in  their  cells.  But  little  is  accomplished 
in  this  way,  however,  as  the  men  pay  no  attention  to 
the  service,  and  often  drown  the  preacher's  voice  with 
shouts,  yells,  and  blasphemous  cries. 

The  Tombs  is  in  charge  of  a  Warden,  who  is  ap- 
pointed by  the  Mayor  of  the  city.  Under  him  are  two 
Deputy  Wardens,  a  Matron,  and  a  sufficient  force  of 
keepers  to  watch  and  guard  the  prisoners.  The  work 
of  the  kitchen,  and  the  cleansing  and  repairing,  are 
done  by  the  boy  prisoners,  about  thirty  being  so  em- 
ployed all  the  time.  An  abundance  of  good,  plain  food 
is  provided,  and  prisoners  are  permitted  to  purchase 
provisions  outside,  or  to  receive  them  from  their 
friends.  Changes  of  clothing  are  supplied  by  the  fami- 
lies  of  the  inmates,  but  where  these  are  too  poor  to 
make  such  provision,  the  Warden  furnishes  the  neces- 
sary clothing  at  the  expense  of  the  city.  Prisoners  an.: 
allowed  to  receive  visits  from  their  friends,  who  an: 
permitted  to  provide  them  with  books  and  other  read- 
ing matter ;  and  are  required  to  exercise  themselves 
by  walking  for  an  hour  every  day  around  the  gallery 
of  the  tier  on  which  their  cells  are  located.  They  are 
allowed  to  smoke,  and  to  occupy  themselves  as  they 
please  during  the  day,  but  are  constantly  kept  locked 
in  their  cells,  except  when  out  for  exercise.    No  lights 


414 


NEW  YORK. 


are  allowed  in  the  cells  at  night,  as  a  precaution  against 
fire.  The  sanitary  arrangements  are  admirable,  and 
are  rigidly  enforced,  and  it  is  said  that,  in  spite  of  the 
unhealthy  location  of  the  prison,  no  case  of  disease  has 
ever  originated  in  it.  This  is  remarkable,  when  one 
considers  the  wretched  condition  in  which  many  of  the 
captives  are  brought  into  the  Tombs,  saturated  with 
alcohol,  or  broken  down  from  destitution  or  exposure. 

The  excellent  condition  of  the  prison  is  due  chiefly 
to  the  efforts  of  the  Warden,  Mr.  James  Finn,  who  has 
held  the  position  for  many  years.  He  is  ably  seconded 
in  the  Women's  and  Boys'  Prisons  by  the  Matron, 
Miss  Flora  Foster,  who  has  been  in  the  service  of  the 
prison  for  thirty  years.  These  admirable  ofificials 
acquire  an  influence  over  the  prisoners  which  is  sim- 
ply wonderful  when  the  desperate  character  of  the 
inmates  is  considered. 

The  Tombs  is  simply  a  prison  of  detention,  where 
persons  charged  with  crime  are  confined  until  sentence 
is  passed  upon  them,  after  trial,  by  the  Courts.  About 
50,000  prisoners  are  annually  confined  in  it.  As  soon 
as  sentence  is  passed  upon  the  prisoners,  they  are  sent 
to  the  prisons  in  which  their  terms  are  to  be  served, 
unless  the  sentence  is  a  capital  one,  when  they  are 
detained  here  until  execution.  A  constant  watch  is 
kept,  day  and  night,  over  those  sentenced  to  death,  to 
prevent  attempts  at  suicide;  but  in  spite  of  all  the 
vigilance  exercised,  the  condemned  sometimes  succeed 
in  putting  an  end  to  their  lives  and  cheating  the  gal- 
lows. The  greater  number  of  suicides  are  insane 
persons,  unhappy  lovers,  and  ruined  and  deserted 
women. 


ESCAPES  FROM  THE  TOMBS. 


415 


Strong  as  it  is,  the  Tombs  has  not  always  been  able 
to  retain  the  prisoners  immured  in  its  cells.  Previous 
to  the  appointment  of  Warden  Finn  escapes  were 
common.  On  the  ist  of  December,  1851,  Henry  A. 
Clark  made  his  escape,  but  was  recaptured;  on  the 
2d  of  August,  1864,  James  Hampton  sprang  through 
the  open  window  of  the  Police  Court  room,  and  got 
away  safely;  later  on  Robert  Green  escaped  from  the 
second  tier  of  cells  by  using  a  forged  visitor's  ticket,  in 
broad  day;  on  the  i  ith  of  April,  1859,  six  boys  escaped 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  from  a  window^  on  the 
Franklin  street  side;  on  the  6th  of  July,  i860,  Henry 
Hawk  escaped  by  answering  to  the  name  of  another 
prisoner  who  was  summoned  to  receive  his  discharge; 
on  the  19th  of  September,  1863,  Conrad  Smith  escaped 
through  the  window  of  a  second  tier  cell,  after  which 
he  scaled  the  outer  wall  and  leaped  from  the  top  into 
the  street;  and  on  the  19th  of  November,  1873,  William 
J.  Sharkey,  imprisoned  for  murder,  escaped  in  daylight, 
disguised  in  woman's  clothes  provided  by  his  mistress, 
who  also  gave  him  her  visitor's  ticket  for  the  purpose 
of  passing  the  guards.  These  are  the  most  noted  es- 
capes, but  since  Sharkey's  performance,  no  prisoner 
has  ever  succeeded  in  passing  the  gates  of  the  Tombs 
except  in  a  legitimate  manner. 

In  the  service  of  the  Tombs  is  a  peculiar  vehicle, 
known  as  "Black  Maria."  It  is  a  strong,  enclosed 
wagon  with  a  door  at  the  rear  end,  and  with  wooden 
blinds  around  the  upper  part  of  the  sides,  for  light  and 
ventilation.  It  is  used  for  conveying  prisoners  from 
the  police  stations  to  the  Tombs,  and  from  that  prison 
to  the  steamer  on  which  they  are  transported  to  Black- 
well's  Island. 


416 


NEW  YORK. 


II. 

THE  TOMBS  COURTS  OF  JUSTICE. 

The  Police  Court  sits  in  a  hall  in  the  Centre  street 
side  of  the  Tombs,  and  is  presided  over  by  a  Police 
Justice,  who  administers  the  law  in  a  sharp,  decisive 
way.  It  is  opened  every  morning  at  an  early  hour,  and 
on  Sunday  morning  at  six  o'clock.  The  Justice  is  well 
acquainted  with  the  class  of  offenders  brought  before 
him,  and  often  startles  some  old  sinner  by  suddenly 
bringing  up  some  portion  of  his  life  that  will  not  bear 
examining.  His  time  is  precious,  and  he  despatches 
each  case  with  a  promptness  and  celerity  that  astonish 
a  stranger. 

They  are  a  queer  set  who  come  before  the  Justice  at 
his  morning  session.  Some  are  old  offenders  and  are 
well  known;  a  few  are  on  trial  for  the  first  time.  They 
started  out  the  night  before  to  see  the  sights  and  have 
a  good  time,  and  now  find  themselves  called  to  answer 
to  the  law  for  their  conduct.  Drunk  and  disorderly  is 
the  charge  against  the  majority  of  the  prisoners.  Some 
of  the  offenders  are  women,  and  others  mere  children, 
arrested  for  vagrancy  or  minor  offences.  The  Justice 
hears  each  case  as  it  is  brought  before  him,  disposes 
of  it  promptly,  and  either  releases  the  prisoner  with  a 
fine  or  a  warning,  sends  him  on  for  trial  in  a  higher 
Court,  or  commits  him  to  the  Tombs  for  ten  days  or  to 
one  of  the  institutions  on  Blackwell's  Island  for  a 
longer  period.  First  offences  are  dealt  with  as  leni- 
ently as  the  law  will  allow,  but  old  offenders  receive 
severe  punishments.  Though  a  stern  foe  to  vice  and 
crime,  the  Justice  is  disposed  to  be  as  lenient  as  pos- 
sible with  those  who  are  unfortunate,  and  often  sends 


i 


THE  COURT  OF  SPECIAL  SESSIONS.  417 

a  prisoner  away  with  sound  good  advice,  when  the  un- 
fortunate has  expected  a  harsh  sentence.  It  is  impos- 
sible for  a  criminal  to  deceive  him,  and  he  sternly  puts 
down  all  attempts  at  sham  innocence  or  mock  peni- 
tence. During-  the  sessions  of  the  Court,  many  persons 
come  to  him  with  complaints  against  other  parties.  He 
listens  to  them  patiently,  and  where  their  cases  are  not 
provided  for  by  the  law,  kindly  advises  them  as  to  the 
proper  course  to  pursue.  By  ten  o'clock  the  business 
of  the  Court  is  generally  over,  and  the  Justice  is  off 
duty  until  the  next  morning. 

The  Court  of  Special  Sessions  is  held  in  the  large 
Egyptian  hall  on  the  right  of  the  Centre  street  entrance 
to  the  Tombs.  It  is  devoted  entirely  to  criminal 
matters,  and  here  are  tried  the  cases  which  are  too 
important  to  be  settled  by  the  Tombs  or  other  Police 
Courts.  Two  judges  constitute  the  Court,  but  its 
sessions  are  often  presided  over  by  a  single  judge. 
Prisoners  are  defended  here  by  counsel,  and  are  al- 
lowed to  introduce  witnesses  in  their  own  behalf  The 
Court  has  jurisdiction  over  all  misdemeanors,  and  as 
there  is  no  jury  trial  in  this  Court,  the  accused  has  his 
choice  of  a  trial  here  before  the  judges,  or  a  trial  in  the 
Court  of  General  Sessions,  before  a  jury.  "  His  decision 
must  be  made  in  writing,  and  he  cannot  retract  it  when 
once  made.  Capital  cases,  burglaries,  and  the  more 
serious  charges  are  sent  to  the  higher  Courts  for  trial. 

Hovering  around  the  Special  Sessions  and  the 
Police  Court,  is  a  species  of  lawyer  known  as  "The 
Tombs  Shyster."  These  men  are  licensed  practitioners, 
but  are  without  standing  in  their  profession.  They 
accost  prisoners  awaiting  trial,  and  offer  to  defend 

27 


418 


NEW  YORK. 


them  for  any  sum,  from  fifty  cents  to  whatever  amount 
the  person  is  willing  to  pay.  If  the  prisoner  has  no 
money  the  shyster  will  take  his  pay  out  in  any  kind  of 
personal  property  that  can  be  pawned  or' sold.  He  is 
not  particular.  He  earns  a  precarious  living,  and  is 
glad  to  receive  anything  for  his  services.  He  rarely 
succeeds  in  procuring  the  acquittal  of  his  client,  but 
collects  his  fee  all  the  same. 

III. 

LUDLOW  STREET  JAIL. 

Just  north  of  Grand  street,  and  in  the  shadow  of  the 
Essex  Market,  from  which  it  is  separated  by  a  narrow 
alley,  is  a  gloomy  looking  brick  edifice,  fronting  on 
Ludlow  street,  and  extending  back  to  Essex  street. 
This  is  Ludlow  Street  Jail,  the  prison  of  the  county  of 
New  York.  It  is  sometimes  called  "The  Sheriff's 
Prison."  All  persons  arrested  under  process  issued 
by  the  Sheriff  of  the  county  of  New  York  are  im- 
prisoned here. 

The  majority  of  the  prisoners  are  arrested  for  debt. 
Although  imprisonment  for  debt  is  forbidden  by  the 
Constitution  of  the  State,  it  is  easy  for  a  creditor  to 
consign  a  debtor  to  the  cells  of  this  prison.  He  has 
only  to  appear  before  the  proper  Court  and  make  oath 
that  his  debtor  is  about  leaving  the  State  without  pay- 
ing him  the  amount  due  him.  An  order  of  arrest  is 
at  once  issued  by  the  Court,  and  the  unfortunate 
debtor  is  arrested  by  the  Sheriff,  or  by  one  of  his 
deputies,  and  consigned  to  Ludlow  Street  Jail.  Mem- 
bers of  the  National  Guard  arrested  for  violations  of 


IMPRISONMENT  FOR  DEBT. 


419 


the  laws  governing-  that  orcranization  are  also  confined 
here,  and  these  constitute  a  large  class  of  the  inmates. 
The  United  States  Courts  also  send  their  prisoners 
here,  the  General  Government  paying  the  county  a 
certain  sum  per  day  for  the  accommodations  furnished 
such  persons.  The  prison  contains  a  number  of  ex- 
cellent rooms,  which  prisoners  who  are  willing  to  pay. 
liberally  for  such  comforts  are  allowed  to  occupy. 


LUDLOW  STREET  JAIL. 

The  charges  are  extortionate,  but  the  ordinary  accom- 
modations provided  by  the  county  are  so  wretched,  that 
those  who  have  the  means  will  pay  any  price  to  obtain 
better  quarters. 

Perhaps  no  class  of  prisoners  in  New  York  are 
subject  to  such  extortions  as  the  unhappy  persons 
confined  in  Ludlow  Street  Jail.    Before  reaching  the  * 
prison  they  are  obliged  to  pass  through  the  hands  of 


420 


NEW  YORK. 


the  Sheriff's  deputies,  who  receive  no  salaries,  and  are 
dependent  for  support  upon  the  sums  they  can  extort 
from  their  victims.  No  favor  will  be  granted  unless 
liberally  paid  for,  and  persons  unacquainted  with  the 
lawful  charges  of  the  establishment  are  fleeced  un- 
mercifully. 

When  a  man  is  arrested  by  a  deputy  sheriff  and  de- 
sires to  give  bail,  he  is  taken  to  the  Sheriff's  office,  and 
his  friends  who  are  likely  to  become  his  sureties  are 
sent  for.  The  law  requires  that  a  reasonable  time  shall 
be  allowed  him  in  which  to  find  bail.  If,  however,  he 
wishes  to  leave  the  Sheriff's  office,  he  can  do  so  only 
by  feeing  a  deputy,  and  the  amount  demanded  is  in 
proportion  to  the  prisoner's  probable  means.  A  man 
of  wealth,  if  his  bail  be  fixed  at  a  large  amount,  not 
infrequently  pays  several  hundred  dollars  a  day  for  the 
privilege  of  being  at  large  in  the  company  of  a  deputy 
Sheriff.  When  the  bondsmen  appear,  a  charge  of 
$1 1.75  is  made  for  giving  a  bond.  The  law  fixing  the 
Sheriff's  fees  says  that  the  charge  for  giving  a  bail 
bond  shall  be  37  cents;  but  this  is  interpreted  to  mean 
simply  for  signing  the  bond,  and  by  making  charges 
for  drawing  the  bond,  for  a  searcher's  work  in  ascer- 
taining the  standing  of  the  bondsmen,  and  for  several 
notary  fees,  the  above  amount  is  reached.  Lawyers 
assert  that  as  high  as  $21.75  has  been  charged,  depu- 
ties making  any  charge  they  think  will  be  paid,  failing 
to  pay  which  the  defendant  is  incarcerated  in  Ludlow 
Street  Jail.  !n  many  cases  it  is  expected  that  the  de- 
fendant's attorney,  if  he  has  one,  will  make  no  objection 
.  to  the  extortionate  charge,  and  will  not  enlighten  his 
client  as  to  the  legal  fee. 


FLEECING  THE  PRISONERS. 


421 


It  is  also  alleged  that  the  Sheriff's  deputies  refrain 
from  serving  an  order  of  arrest  if  $io  to  $20  i^  forth- 
coming, and  if  the  defendant  shows  a  willingness  to 
submit,  the  deputy  repeats  the  process,  until  finally  the 
plaintiff  in  the  action  compels  the  arrest  to  be  made. 
Another  common  practice  is  to  delay  serving  an  order 
of  arrest  until  after  four  o'clock,  at  which  hour  the 
Sheriffs  office  is  closed.  The  arrested  man  is  then 
willing  to  pay  a  considerable  sum  to  have  the  order 
withheld  until  the  next  day,  or  to  have  his  bonds  taken 
at  the  deputy's  house.  Lawyers  also  say  diat  no  bail 
bond  will  be  accepted  at  the  Sheriffs  office  except  one 
drawn  there,  the  reason  given  being  that  the  bond 
must  be  "  satisfactory  to  the  Sheriff."  This  is  under- 
stood to  mean  that  no  bond  will  be  considered  "satis- 
factory" unless  it  is  drawn  in  the  Sheriff's  office  and 
can  be  charged  for. 

Efforts  have  been  made  by  the  Bar  Association  to 
put  a  stop  to  these  abuses,  but  so  far  without  success. 


422 


NEW  YORKp 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

PUBLIC  SQUARES. 

MB  BATTBRY  PARK— ITS  HISTORY— THE  BATTERY  IN  OLD  TIMES— ITS  PRBSBNT  CONDITIOH— ii 
DKLIGHTFUL  BREATHING  PLACE — THE  BARGE  OFFICE — THE  BOWLING  GREEN — THE  CITY 
HALL  PARK — TOMPKINS  SQUARE — SQUANDERING  THE  PUBLIC  FUNDS — A  FINK  PARK  RUINED — 
WASHINGTON  SQUARE — UNION  SQUARE  AND  ITS  SURROUNDINGS — THE  "  SLAVE  MARKET " 
— STUYVESANT  SQUARE — MADISON  SQUARE — A  DELIGHTFUL  PLEASURE-GROUND — MAGNIFI- 
CBNT  SURROUNDINGS — GRAMMERCY  PARK — RESERVOIR  SQUARE — MOUNT  MORRIS  SQUARE— 
MORNINGSIDB  PABK- RIVERSIDE  PARK. 

Besides  the  Central  Park,  New  York  contains  a 
number  of  smaller  pleasure  grounds,  all  of  which,  with 
one  exception,  are  tastefully  laid  off  and  handsomely 
ornamented  with  shrubbery,  and  some  with  statues  and 
fountains. 

Beginning  at  the  lower  end  of  the  city,  the  first  of 
these  is  Battery  Park,  which  comprises  an  area  of 
twenty-one  acres,  and  occupies  the  extreme  southern- 
most point  of  Manhattan  Island.  It  derives  its  name 
from  the  battery,  built  on  the  site  by  order  of  the  Eng- 
lish authorities,  in  1734.  The  old  Dutch  fort,  built  by 
the  original  settlers  of  Manhattan  Island,  was  erected 
on  the  spot  now  occupied  by  the  Bowling  Green,  At 
this  time  the  point  of  the  island  was  rocky  and  swampy, 
but  in  1792,  after  the  independence  of  the  country  had 
been  won,  measures  were  begun  for  filling  up  the  site 
and  laying  it  off  as  a  public  park,  and  since  then  it  has 
been  used  for  that  purpose.  Until  about  thirty-five 
years  ago,  it  was  the  favorite,  as  well  as  the  handsom- 
est, pleasure  ground  in  the  city,  and  was  surrounded 
by  stately  residences,  occupied  by  wealthy  and  leading 


THE  BATTERY  PARK. 


423 


citizens.  Trade  at  length  invaded  this  region,  and  the 
Upper  Ten  were  driven  higher  up  the  island;  the 
stately  residences  gave  place  to  warehouses  and  of- 
fices, and  the  Battery  was  neglected.  It  became  a 
rendezvous  for  tramps,  and  the  favorite  dumping- 
ground  for  all  sorts  of  rubbish.  What  was  once  the 
pride  and  boast  of  the  city  became  one  of  its  greatest 
nuisances.  Such  a  state  of  affairs  could  not  continue 
long,  however,  and  in  1869  the  park  was  redeemed. 
The  General  Government  built  a  massive  sea-wall 
some  distance  into  the  water,  and  the  park  was  ex- 
tended to  it,  thus  greatly  enlarging  its  area  The  rub- 
bish which  had  accumulated  here  was  carted  away, 
and  further  deposits  were  prohibited  under  severe 
penalties  ;  the  old  rookeries  and  street-venders'  stands 
which  had  accumulated  about  Castle  Garden  were  re- 
moved, and  the  Battery  was  laid  off  into  a  handsome 
and  well-arranged  park. 

The  Battery  is  handsomely  planted  with  shade  trees, 
flowers,  and  shrubbery,  and  is  provided  with  broac; 
stone  walks,  which  traverse  it  in  every  direction.  Ir 
the  centre  is  a  tasteful  music  pavilion,  where  ^concerts  , 
are  given  by  the  city  band  at  stated  times  in  the  warn: . 
season ;  and  close  by  is  a  tall  flag-staff,  from  which  the 
national  ensign  floats  proudly  in  the  breeze.  A  mas- 
sive sea-wall  of  granite  forms  the  water  front,  and  is 
provided  with  broad  stairways  leading  down  to  the 
water.  At  the  northern  end,  projecting  into  the  Bay, 
is  Castle  Garden,  the  famous  emigrant  depot,  of  which 
more  elsewhere;  and  at  the  southern  end,  on  the 
water  s  edge,  is  the  barge  office  of  the  Custom  House, 
aji  elegant  granite  edifice  in  the  Byzantine  style  of 


424 


NEW  YORK. 


architecture.  This  is  the  headquarters  of  the  various 
boats  used  in  the  revenue  service  of  the  United  States 
in  these  waters,  and  when  completed  will  also  be  de- 
voted to  the  reception  of  passengers  from  the  Europe- 
an steamers  and  their  baggage,  during  the  examina- 
tion by  the  Customs  officials.  The  eastern  portion  of 
the  Park  is  traversed  by  the  line  of  the  New  York  Ele- 
vated Railroad,  which  has  one  of  its  principal  stations 
at  the  South  Ferry,  just  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
grounds. 

The  Battery  is  by  far  the  coolest  place  in  New  York 
in  summer.  Here  one  may  escape  from  the  heats  of 
the  city,  and  enjoy  the  delicious  sea-breeze  which 
sweeps  in  unobstructed  from  the  blue  water,  which  can 
be  faintly  seen  beyond  the  Narrows.  The  Inner  Bay, 
a  portion  of  the  East  River,  the  Hudson,  with  Brook- 
lyn, the  islands  of  the  Bay  and  their  fortifications,  and 
Jersey  City,  and  the  shipping  in  the  harbor,  and  the 
wharves,  are  full  in  sight,  and  make  up  one  of  the 
grandest  views  to  be  seen  on  earth. 

The  Bowling  Green  is  the  name  given  to  a  small, 
circular  .space  at  the  lower  end  of  Broadway.  It  is 
well  shaded,  is  filled  with  pretty  shrubbery  and  flowers, 
and  is  ornamented  with  a  fountain  in  the  centre.  It 
was  the  first  public  pleasure-ground  laid  out  in  New 
York,  and  dates  from  1734.  In  1711,  a  leaden  statue 
of  George  III,  of  England,  was  erected  where  the  foun- 
tain now  stands.  It  was  pulled  down  at  the  outbreak 
of  the  Revolution,  and  the  metal  was  run  into  bullets 
for  the  use  of  Washington's  army. 

The  City  Hall  Park,  or  "The  Park"  as  it  is  termed 
by  old  residents,  is  located  about  a  mile  above  the 


TOMPKINS  SQUARE. 


425 


Battery,  and  contains  the  City  Hall  and  the  County 
Buildings.  It  originally  comprised  eleven  acres  ot 
ground,  and  was  shaded  with  fine  old  trees.  The. 
city,  about  ten  years  ago,  ceded  to  the  General  Gov- 
ernment the  extreme  southern  portion  of  the  Park,  as 
a  site  for  a  new  Post  Office,  and  this  grand  edifice  has 
now  considerably  reduced  the  size  of  the  Park.  What 
is  left  is  a  large  open  space  of  several  acres,  laid  out 
with  walks,  a  fountain,  trees,  and  shrubbery.  It  is  the 
main  thoroughfare  between  Broadway  and  the  streets 
lying  east  of  the  Park. 

Tompkins  Squai^e  constitutes  the  only  breathing 
space  in  the  terribly  overcrowded  tenement  house 
districts  of  the  eastern  side  of  the  city.  It  comprises 
an  area  of  ten  acres,  bounded  by  Avenues  A  and  B 
and  7th  and  loth  streets.  It  was  presented  to  the 
city  about  half  a  century  ago,  by  John  Jacob  Astor,  as 
*'a  place  of  healthful  recreation"  for  the  masses.  Since 
then  it  has  cost  the  city  more  money  than  any  public 
square  within  its  limits.  At  the  time  it  became  public 
property  it  was  adorned  with  noble  shade  trees  and 
shrubbery,  was  laid  off  with  pleasant  walks,  and  the 
surface  was  perfectly  level.  Some  years  ago  the  city 
authorities  were  seized  with  a  desire  to  diversify  its 
surface  with  artificial  hills,  and  laborers  were  at  once 
set  to  work  to  make  the  so-called  improvements. 
Half  of  the  trees  w^ere  cut  down,  and  the  work  on  the 
grounds,  which  was  simply  a  political  job,  lagged. 
Then  it  was  decided  to  convert  it  into  a  drill  ground, 
or  "Military  Plaza,"  and  the  surface  was  again  leveled, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  trees  swept  away.  By  this 
time  the  Astor  family  had  become  disgusted  with  the 


426 


NEW  YORK. 


manner  in  which  their  ancestor's  wish  to  Drovide  a 
place  of  pleasant  resort  had  been  set  aside,  and  they 
brought  suit  against  the  city  to  recover  the  property, 
basing  their  claim  upon  the  plain  fact  that  it  had  been 
diverted  from  the  use  for  which  it  was  given.  The 
authorities  then  inaugurated  another  change.  The 
drill  ground  was  to  be  changed  to  a  park  again,  and 
the  work  was  immediately  begun.    It  is  still  in  progress. 

Washington  Square  lies  at  the  lower  end  of  Fifth 
avenue,  three  blocks  west  of  Broadway.  It  is  bounded 
by  Waverley  Place,  McDougal  street,  West  Fourth 
street,  and  University  Place.  It  comprises  an  area  of 
eight  acres,  and  contains  some  of  the  noblest  trees  in 
the  city.  A  handsome  fountain  occupies  the  centre  of 
the  Square,  and  the  grounds  are  tastefully  laid  off.  On 
the  east  side  of  the  Square  are  a  Lutheran  Church  and 
the  Gothic  edifice  of  the  University  of  New  York. 

Union  Square  lies  between  Broadway  and  Fourth 
avenue,  and  extends  from  14th  to  17th  streets.  It  is 
about  three  and  a  half  acres  in  extent,  and  contains  a 
number  of  fine  shade  trees.  In  the  centre  is  a  hand- 
some ornamental  fountain,  and  flowers  and  shrubbery 
give  to  the  place  an  air  of  beauty  in  the  spring  and 
summer.  Near  the  fountain  is  a  prett}'  cottage,  con- 
taining toilet  rooms  for  ladies  and  children  on  the  main 
floor,  and  accommodations  for  gentlemen  in  the  base- 
ment. A  broad  plaza  borders  the  Square  on  the 
northern  side,  along  1 7th  street,  and  here  is  arranged 
a  long  row  of  ornamental  gas-lamps,  which  on  special 
occasions  illuminate  the  Square.  Along  the  southern 
border,  or  1 4th  street  side,  are  statues  of  Washington, 
Lafayette,  and  Lincoln. 


UNION  SQUARE. 


427 


Union  Square  lies  in  the  centre  of  one  of  the  busiest 
and  brightest  portions  of  New  York.  Broadway 
sweeps  around  it,  with  its  rows  of  magnificent  buildings, 
and  the  14th  street  and  Fourth  avenue  sides  rival  the 
great  thoroughfare  in  their  grand  edifices.  The  south- 
east corner  of  Broadway  and  14th  street  is  marked  by 
the  Union  Place  Hotel,  next  door  to  which  is  the  Union 
Square  Theatre,  and  immediately  opposite,  across 
Broadway,  towers  the  superb  iron  building  of  the  Do- 
mestic Sewing  Machine  Company.  On  the  east  side^ 
facing  on  Fourth  avenue,  are  the  Union  Square  and 
Clarendon  Hotels  ;  the  Everett  House  faces  the  Square 
on  17th  street,  and  on  Broadway  are  Tiffany's  and  sev  - 
eral  of  the  finest  stores  in  the  city.  Everything  is 
bright  and  lively.  Crowds  line  the  sidewalks  of  the 
streets  surrounding  the  Square,  and  pour  along  its 
broad  walks,  by  day  and  night ;  and  after  nightfall 
the  dazzling  rays  of  the  electric  lights  illuminate  the 
pretty  grounds,  with  a  brilliancy  almost  equal  to  that 
of  day.  Several  of  the  leading  places  of  amusement 
are  in  close  proximity  to  Union  Square,  and  this  cause.s 
it  to  be  thronged  until  a  late  hour  of  the  night.  The 
neiorhborhood  is  also  a  favorite  rendezvous  with  the 

o 

members  of  the  theatrical  profession,  to  whom  that; 
portion  of  14th  street  opposite  the  Washington  statufr 
is  known  as  "The  Slave  Market,"  in  consequence  oi 
the  large  number  of  actors  always  to  be  found  hangin^);^ 
around  there  in  summer,  looking  for  engagements. 

Stuyvesant  Square  lies  to  the  east  of  Union  Square, 
between  15th  and  17th  streets,  and  covers  an  area  of 
a  little  more  than  four  acres.  It  is  bisected  by  Second 
avenue,  and  each  of  its  two  sections  is  enclosed  with 


428 


NEW  YORK. 


^in  iron  fence,  the  gates  of  which  are  locked  at  night. 
The  grounds  are  prettily  laid  out,  and  are  filled  with 
shrubbery  and  flowers.  In  the  centre  of  each  portion 
of  the  square  is  a  tasteful  fountain.  The  ground  was 
presented  to  the  city  by  the  late  Peter  G.  Stuyvesant. 
The  streets  surrounding  it  are  occupied  by  elegant  pri- 
vate residences,  and  on  the  west  side  is  St.  George's 
Episcopal  Church,  one  of  the  handsomest  religious 
edifices  in  New  York. 

Madison  Square  is  the  prettiest  of  all  the  smaller 
parks  of  New  York,  and  is  situated  in  the  most  attract- 
*'ive  portion  of  the  city.  It  lies  between  Broadway  and 
Fifth  avenue  and  Madison  avenue,  and  23d  and  26th 
streets,  and  is  six  acres  in  extent.  The  iron  fence 
which  formerly  enclosed  it  was  removed  some  years 
ago,  and  this  imparts  to  it  an  air  of  space,  which  is 
heightened  by  an  open  area  in  the  midst  of  which  it  lies. 
It  is  well  shaded  by  noble  trees,  and  fairly  smiles  with 
^ay  flowers  in  the  summer.  A  fine  fountain  in  the 
centre  is  one  of  its  chief  attractions,  and  around  it 
gather,  on  fair  mornings,  crowds  of  children  and  nurses 
from  the  neighboring  fashionable  streets.  A  bronze 
statue  of  William  H.  Seward  ornaments  the  south- 
western corner,  while  at  the  northwest  corner  is  the 
noble  statue  of  Admiral  Farragut,  also  of  bronze.  At 
night  the  grounds  are  well  lighted  by  the  electric  lamps 
on  Broadway  and  Fifth  avenue.  The  Fifth  Avenue 
Hotel,  and  the  Albemarle  and  Hoffman  Houses  face 
it  on  the  west,  while  on  the  north  is  the  Hotel  Bruns- 
wick, opposite  which,  across  Fifth  avenue,  is  the 
towering  Hotel  Victoria.  23d  street  is  lined  with 
elegant  stores,  and  superb  private  mansions  and  a 


4 


» 


430 


NEW  YORK. 


Presbyterian  Church  rise  along  the  Madison  avenue 
side.  So  bright  and  beautiful  are  the  park  and  all  its 
surroundings,  so  full  of  life  and  gayety,  so  eloquent  of 
wealth  and  splendor,  is  every  object  within  view,  that 
it  is  hard  to  realize  that  a  little  more  than  sixty  years 
ago  the  pretty  Square  was  used  by  the  city  as  a  Potter's 
Field,  the  last  resting-place  of  the  poor  and  wretched. 

Grammercy  Park  lies  between  Third  and  Fourth, 
avenues,  and  extends  from  20th  to  21st  street  It 
separates  Irving  Place  from  Lexington  avenue,  and  is 
a  small  enclosure  belonging  to  a  number  of  gentlemen 
of  wealth  living  around  it.  It  is  a  pretty  spot,  and 
being  private  property,  is  kept  locked,  and  is  used  only 
for  the  recreation  of  its  owners  and  their  families. 
Peter  Cooper,  Cyrus  W.  Field,  Moses  Taylor,  Ex- 
Governor  Tilden,  and  a  number  of  other  well-known 
citizens  reside  here. 

Reservoir  Square  is  a  small  enclosure  lying  between 
Sixth  avenue  and  the  Distributing  Reservoir  on  Fifth 
avenue  and  40th  and  42d  streets.  It  occupies  the  site 
of  the  Crystal  Palace,  in  which  the  World's  Fair  (the 
first  international  exhibition  of  America)  was  held,  in 
1853.    The  building  was  d'estroyed  by  fire  in  1858, 

Mount  Morris  Square  covers  an  area  of  twenty 
acres,  and  lies  on  the  line  of  Fifth  avenue,  which  sweeps 
around  it  on  the  east  and  west  sides,  between  i  20th 
and  124th  streets.  It  is  a  favorite  resort  for  the 
residents  of  Harlem  and  the  vicinity.  In  the  centre  a 
rocky  hill,  ornamented  with  an  observatory,  rises  to  a 
height  of  one  hundred  feet. 

Morningside  Park  commences  about  five  hundred 
feet  from  the  northwestern  corner  of  the  Central  Park, 


RIVERSIDE  PARK. 


431 


at  I  loth  street,  and  extends  to  123d  street.  It  has  an 
average  breadth  of  about  six  hundred  feet,  and  com- 
prises an  area  of  about  forty-seven  acres.  It  is  one 
of  the  unfinished  parks  of  the  city,  and  will  not  be 
completed  for  several  years  at  least. 

Riverside  Park  lies  between  Riverside  avenue  and 
the  Hudson  River,  and  extends  from  7 2d  to  130th 
street.  It  is  irregular  in  shape,  is  nearly  three  miles 
long,  has  an  average  breadth  of  five  hundred  feet,  and 
contains  one  hundred  and  seventy-eight  acres.  It  is 
still  unfinished,  though  the  walks  and  drives  have  been 
laid  out,  and  afford  fine  views  of  the  river  and  the 
picturesque  heights  of  Weehawken,  on  the  New  Jersey 
shore.  Real  estate  men  confidently  predict  that  its 
vicinity  will  become  the  most  fashionable  residence 
quarter  of  New  York. 


432 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  PAWNBROKERS  AND  THEIR  WAYS. 

WB  SIGN  OP  THE  THREE  BALLS— LAWS  RESPECTING  PAWNBROKERS — HOW  LICENSES  ARE  ISSUBI>— 
DISREGARD  OF  THE  LAW  BY  THE  PAWNBROKERS — SOURCES  OF  PROFIT — EXCESSIVE  INTEREST — 
STORAGE  CHARGES — SALES  OF  UNREDEEMED  GOODS — WHO  ARE  THE  PAWNBROKERS — ^THB 
JEWS — A  DISHONEST  CLASS — SUCKING  THE  LIFE  BLOOD  OF  THE  POOR — HOW  CUSTOMERS  AK» 
SWINDLED — CHARACTERISTIC  SCENE  IN  A  PAWN  SHOP — THE  JEWS'  ONE  PER  CENT. — AN  INSIUR 
VIEW  OF  THE  BUSINESS — DRUMMING  UP  CUSTOM. 

The  stranger  in  passing  through  East  Broadway,  the 
Bowery,  Chatham,  Oliver,  Division,  Catharine,  Grand, 
Canal,  Broome,  or  the  neighboring  streets,  is  struck 
with  the  number  of  quiet,  dingy-looking  shops  over 
which  are  suspended  the  old  sign  of  the  Lombards — 
three  gilt  balls.  These  shops  and  the  three-ball  signs, 
•all  of  the  latter  more  or  less  dingy,  may  be  seen  in 
many  other  quarters  of  the  city,  but  they  are  nowhere 
so  numerous  as  in  the  streets  named  above,  which  are 
centres  of  the  abodes  of  poverty  and  wretchedness. 
These  are  pawnbrokers'  shops,  and,  as  a  rule,  their 
proprietors  are  harpies,  who  suck  the  life  blood  of  the 
poor,  and  grow  rich  upon  their  miseries.  Of  course, 
in  all  large  cities  there  must  of  necessity  be  a  great 
aggregation  of  poverty  and  misery.  To  the  poor  the 
pawnbroker  is  a  necessity.  They  must  have  some 
place  to  which  they  can  repair  at  once,  and,  by  pledging 
such  articles  as  they  possess,  raise  the  pittance  they  so 
sorely  need.  Municipal  legislators  the  world  over 
recognize  this  necessity,  and  endeavor  to  throw  such 
safeguards  around  the  business  of  pawnbroking  that 
the  poor  shall  not  be  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  the 


LAWS  RESPECTING  PAWNBROKERS.  43^ 

brokers.  In  Great  Britain  the  business  is  regulated 
by  stringent  laws,  and  in  Continental  Europe  nearly- 
all  the  Governments  have  taken  it  into  their  own 
hands,  and  have  organized  vast  establishments,  known 
as  Monts  de  Piete,  where  those  in  need  of  such  assist- 
ance can  obtain  small  loans  on  articles  of  almost  every 
description.  At  these  Government  establishments  the 
poor  are  treated  fairly,  the  rate  of  interest  charged  is 
low,  and  every  opportunity  for  the  redemption  of  the 
property  pledged  is  afforded. 

In  New  York,  the  law  requires  that  licenses  to  do 
business  as  pawnbrokers  shall  be  issued  to  none  but 
persons  of  known  good  character.  The  Mayor  of  the 
city  alone  has  the  power  of  issuing  such  licenses,  and 
Mayors  of  all  parties  have  been  in  the  habit  of  putting 
a  very  liberal  construction  upon  the  law.  None  but 
those  so  licensed  can  do  business  in  New  York. 
"Mayors  of  all  cliques  and  parties,"  says  the  Report 
of  the  New  York  Prison  Association,  "have  exercised 
their  power  with,  apparently,  little  sense  of  the  re- 
sponsibility which  rests  upon  them.  They  have  not,, 
ordinarily  at  least,  required  clear  proof  of  the  integrity 
of  the  applicants,  but  have  usually  licensed  every 
applicant  possessed  of  political  influence.  There  is 
scarcely  an  instance  where  they  have  revoked  a  license 
thus  granted,  even  when  they  have  been  furnished 
with  proofs  of  the  dishonesty  of  the  holders." 

Section  Eight  of  the  Statute  relating  to  pawnbrokers 
endeavors  to  impose  some  restraint  upon  their  oper- 
ations by  declaring  that  "No  pawnbroker  shall  ask, 
demand,  or  receive  any  greater  rate  of  interest  than 
twenty-five  per  cent,  per  annum  upon  any  loan  not 

28 


434 


NEW  YORK. 


exceeding  the  sum  of  twenty-five  dollars,  or  than  seven 
per  cent,  per  annum  upon  any  loan  exceeding  the  sum 
of  twenty-five  dollars,  under  the  penalty  of  one  hun- 
dred dollars  for  every  such  offence." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  none  of  the  pawnbrokers  pay  the 
least  attention  to  this  law.  They  know  that  the  great 
majority  of  their  customers  are  ignorant  of  the  provi- 
sions of  the  statute,  and  that  those  who  are  familiar 
with  it  will  not  avail  themselves  of  its  protection,  as 
they  fear  to  lose  the  favor  of  the  pawnbroker.  Conse- 
quently they  fix  their  own  rates  of  interest,  which  may 
be  said  to  average  about  three  per  cent,  for  a  month, 
or  any  fractional  part  of  a  month,  or  thirty-six  per  cent, 
a  year.  Some  of  the  more  unscrupulous  members  of 
the  fraternity,  whose  dealings  are  exclusively  with  the 
poor,  charge  a  much  higher  rate,  extorting  as  much  as 
fifty  per  cent,  from  those  whose  needs  are  very  great 

Apart  from  the  money  received  for  interest,  the 
pawnbrokers  charge  their  customers  exorbitant  sums 
for  storing  in  places  of  safety  the  articles  left  in  their 
keeping.  "On  diamonds,  watches,  jewelry,  silver- ware, 
opera-glasses,  articles  of  vertu,  ten  per  cent,  on  the 
amount  loaned,  over  and  above  the  interest,  for  what 
is  called  putting  them  away  in  the  safes.  On  coats, 
vests,  pants,  dresses,  cloaks,  skirts,  basques,  from 
twenty  cents  to  one  dollar  is  charged  for  hanging  up. 
On  laces,  silks,  velvets,  shawls,  etc.,  from  twenty-five 
cents  to  one  dollar  for  putting  away  in  bureau,  ward- 
robe, or  drawer.  For  wrappers,  from  fifteen  to  fifty 
cents  is  charged.  Persons  offering  goods  done  up  in 
papers  are  compelled  to  hire  a  wrapper,  or  the  pawn- 
broker refuses  to  advance.    The  wrapper  is  simply  a 


PROFITS  OF  PAWNBROKERS. 


435 


dirty  piece  of  old  muslin.  The  hire  of  one  of  diese 
wrappers  has  been  known  to  amount  to  over  five  dol- 
lars in  one  year.  Upon  trunks,  valises,  beds,  pillows, 
carpets,  tool-chests,  musical  instruments,  sewing  ma- 
chines, clocks,  pictures,  etc.,  in  propordon  to  their  bulk, 
from  one  to  five  dollars  is  charged  for  storage." 

Another  source  of  profit  to  the  pawnbroker  arises 
from  the  sale  of  unredeemed  articles.  Advances  are 
made  at  so  low  a  rate  that  the  property  pledged  is  sure 
to  bring  more  when  put  up  for  sale  than  the  sum 
loaned  upon  it.  The  law  requires  that  the  amount  re- 
ceived at  such  sales,  over  and  above  the  pawnbroker's 
just  claims,  shall  be  returned  to  the  depositor.  The 
pawnbrokers,  however,  trouble  themselves  as  little 
about  this  law  as  about  that  regulating  interest.  They 
coolly  pocket  the  whole  amount  received,  and  the  owner 
of  the  goods  pledged  loses  the  sum  rightfully  due  him. 
Here,  again,  the  pawnbroker  trades  upon  his  custom- 
er's ignorance  of  the  law. 

The  majority  of  the  pawnbrokers  of  New  York  are 
Jews,  and  are  among  the  most  rascally  of  that  race. 
They  do  not  monopolize  the  business,  however,  for 
there  are  a  number  of  Englishmen,  Irishmen,  and  even 
Americans,  engaged  in  it.  The  more  honest  dealers 
are  found  among  the  Americans  and  Englishmen. 
The  Jew  pawnbroker  is  by  nature  a  scoundrel,  and  so 
far  as  the  observation  of  the  writer  goes,  has  not  one 
redeeming  quality.  He  advances  the  smallest  amounts 
on  goods  pledged,  extorts  the  highest  rates  of  inter- 
est, and  is  the  most  merciless  in  his  dealings  with 
customers,  of  any  of  the  fraternity.  The  Jews  are  so 
numerous  in  this  business  that  they  have  given  it  its 


436  NEW  YORK. 

peculiar  reputation.  These  wretches  suck  the  very 
life  blood  from  the  poor,  and  having  gotten  possession 
of  their  property,  do  not  hesitate  to  sell  it  for  many 
times  its  value,  when  they  see  an  opportunity^  of  doing 
so.  When  the  owner  comes  for  his  or  her  property, 
the  pawnbroker  declares,  with  well  feigned  regret,, 
that  it  cannot  be  found,  and  either  turns  the  owner  out 
of  doors,  or  buys  up  his  pawn  ticket  at  a  heavy  discount. 
He  knows  that  the  poor  customer  is  in  his  power,  and 
has  neither  the  means  nor  the  inclination  to  seek  re- 
dress at  law.  These  wretches  do  not  hesitate  to  deck 
their  families  out  in  the  clothing,  shawls  and  jewelry 
pledged  to  them.  Often  the  clothes  are  worn  out, 
and  the  return  of  the  pledge  is  either  refused,  or  the 
articles  are  restored  in  such  a  damaged  condition  as 
to  be  useless.  Sometimes  a  spirited  depositor  will 
demand  full  redress  for  the  loss  so  inflicted  upon  him, 
and  will  threaten  the  broker  with  an  appeal  to  the 
Courts.  If  the  broker  is  convinced  that  the  depositor 
is  in  earnest,  he  settles  up  promptly;  but  there  is  an 
end  to  his  dealings  with  that  person.  He  has  no  wish 
to  have  his  transactions  brought  to  the  light  of  justice. 
Such  a  proceeding  would  bring  unpleasant  conse- 
quences in  its  train,  and  he  does  not  desire  such 
customers. 

The  majority  of  the  pawn  shops  are  dirty  and  repul- 
sive in  appearance.  Before  each  hangs  the  sign  of  the 
three  balls,  and  the  windows  are  filled  with  unredeemed 
pledges  for  sale,  and  are  adorned  with  signs  stating 
that  money  is  loaned  here  on  all  kinds  of  property  at 
the  most  liberal  rates.  Pushing  open  the  dirty  door, 
we  enter  a  dingy  apartment.    The  air  is  close  and 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH      MINE  UNCLE." 


437 


stuffy,  and  the  room  smells  strongly  of  garlic  or  onions. 
A  man  with  an  unmistakeably  Jewish  face  and  a  villain- 
ous expression  of  countenance  stands  behind  the  nar- 
row counter,  the  greater  part  of  which  is  partitioned 
off  from  the  public  part  of  the  room.  We  take  our 
stand,  invisibly,  of  course,  and  watch  the  proceedings. 

A  young  man  enters,  well  dressed,  and  rather  dissi- 
pated in  appearance.  The  child  of  Abraham  watches 
him  narrowly,  and  begins  to  shake  his  head  and  groan, 
as  if  in  pain.  The  visitor  approaches  the  counter,  and 
lays  a  gold  watch  upon  it.  The  broker  clutches  it 
eagerly,  examines  it,  and  groans  louder  than  ever. 

**Vat  you  vant  on  dis  vatch?"  he  asks,  mournfully. 

"Fifty  dollars.  It  cost  me  one  hundred  and  fifty/" 
is  the  reply. 

"Fifty  tollar!  fifty  tollar!  Holy  Moshish,  vat  you  take 
me  for!"  Then,  turning,  he  calls  wildly,  "Abraham! 
Abraham!  you  shust  koom  hier,  quick." 

A  second  Jew,  dirtier  and  more  disreputable  looking 
than  the  first,  makes  his  appearance,  and  the  proprietor, 
passing  the  watch  to  him,  and  holding  up  his  hands,, 
shrieks  out,  as  if  in  despair, 

"Abraham!  he  vant  fifty  tollar  on  dat  vatch.  De 
man  ish  grazy." 

"Ve  shall  be  ruined,"  echoes  Abraham,  hoarsely. 
"  Ve  couldn't  do  it.    Tish  too  much." 

The  proprietor  waves  his  arms  wildly,  takes  the 
watch  from  Abraham,  and  eyeing  the  owner  sharply 
for  a  moment,  says  : — 

"I  tell  you  vat  I  do.  I  gif  you  fifteen  tollar.  How 
long  you  vant  de  monish  ?  " 

''Only  for  a  month,"  replies  the  young  man,  evidently 
struggling  between  disgust  and  despair. 


438 


NEW  YORK. 


"I  let  you  haf  fifteen  tollar  for  de  month,"  says  the 
pawnbroker,  seizing  a  ticket,  and  commencing  to  make 
it  out.  "You  pays  me  vone  tollar  for  de  loan,  an  you 
pays  me  fifty  cent  to  put  de  vatch  in  de  safe,  you  know. 
It  might  git  shtole  if  I  leaf  it  out  hier.  Dat  shuit  you, 
mine  young  frient?" 

The  young  man  has  "been  there"  before,  and  knows 
that  remonstrance  is  useless.  He  nods  a  silent  affirm- 
ative, and  the  pawnbroker  makes  out  a  ticket  for 
fifteen  dollars,  and  hands  him  thirteen  dollars  and  fifty 
cents,  having  deducted  the  interest  and  the  charge  for 
storage.  The  young  man  receives  the  money  and  the 
ticket,  and  goes  out  in  silence. 

"Dat  ish  peesness,"  says  Abraham,  admiringly,  as 
the  proprietor  puts  the  watch  away. 

"  Yesh,"  mutters  the  pawnbroker,  with  a  satisfied  air. 
"De  vatch  ish  vort  a  hundred  tollar.  If  he  don't  take 
it  up,  it  vill  bring  us  dat." 

The  next  customer  is  a  poor  woman,  who  comes  to 
pledge  some  article  of  household  use.  She  is  ground 
down  to  the  lowest  cent,  and  charged  the  highest  in- 
terest; and  so  the  proceedings  go  on  until  we  become 
heart-sick,  and  leave  the  place  as  invisibly  as  we  came. 

The  principal  dealings  of  the  pawnbrokers  are,  as 
we  have  said,  with  the  poor.  Life  is  hard  in  New 
York,  and  those  who  dwell  under  the  shadow  are 
obliged  to  make  great  sacrifices  of  comfort  to  keep 
body  and  soul  together.  Everything  that  will  bring 
money  finds  ks  way  to  the  pawn  shop,  and  the  miser- 
able pittance  received  for  it  goes  to  provide  food.  Too 
often  articles  of  household  use  or  clothing  are  pawned 
to  raise  money  for  drink,  and  the>  possessions  of  the 


VARIOUS  KINDS  OF  PAWNBROKERS. 


439 


family  are  one  by  one  sacrificed  for  this  wretched  pur- 
pose, until  nothing  is  left. 

The  pawnbroker  finds  a  very  profitable  class  of 
customers  in  the  respectable  working  people  of  the 
city.  Many  of  these  regularly  pawn  articles,  sometimes 
of  value,  at  the  first  of  the  week,  and  redeem  them 
when  they  receive  their  wages  on  Saturday.  It  is  to 
the  broker's  interest  to  be  obliging  to  these  people,* 
since  they  are  regular  customers,  and  he  reaps  a  rich 
harvest  from  them  in  the  exorbitant  interest  they  pay 
him. 

It  is  the  common  belief  that  the  pawnbrokers  are 
also  receivers  of  stolen  goods.  Some  of  the  more  un- 
scrupulous may  make  ventures  of  this  kind,  but  as  a 
rule  the  brokers  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  thieves ; 
the  risk  of  detection  is  too  great,  so  they  confine  them- 
selves to  what  they  term  their  "legitimate  business," 
and  leave  dealings  in  stolen  property  to  the  "fences," 
who  constitute  a  distinct  class,  and  to  whom  we  shall 
refer  in  another  chapter. 

Another  class  of  pawnbrokers  do  not  own  shops,  or 
even  offices.  They  conduct  their  business  by  calling 
at  private  houses,  and  asking  if  the  ladies  of  the  house 
wish  any  money  advanced  on  jewelry  or  fine  articles 
of  clothing.  Should  they  meet  with  a  rebuff  in  the 
parlor  they  pass  on  to  the  kitchen,  and  rarely  fail  to 
find  a  customer  in  "Biddy."  These  dealers  conduct 
large  transactions;  their  customers  are  mainly  ladies, 
who  do  not  wish  their  dealings  with  them  to  be  known; 
and  the  obliging  pawnbroker  usually  adds  one  or  two 
per  cent,  more  to  his  charges  to  pay  for  his  silence  on 
the  subject. 


440 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE  CENTRAL  PARK. 

IrlJ^NS  FOR  A  GRAND  PARK — CHOICE  OF  A  SITE— THE  PARK  COMMISSION  ORGANIZED— DIFFlCTrt^ 
TIBS  IN  THE  WAY — THE  WORK  BEGUN — THE  RESULT — THE  CENTRAL  PARK  OF  TO-DAY— COST 

OF  THE  PARK — THE   UPPER   AND    LOWER   PARKS — THE  ENTRANCES — THE   POND  THE  OLO 

ARSENAL — THE  MENAGERIE — THE  METEOROLOGICAL .  OBSERVATORY — THE  BALL  GROUND — 
THE  DAIRY — AMUSEMENTS  FOR  CHILDREN— THE  GREEN — THE  SHEEPFOLD — THE  SEVENTH 
REGIMENT  STATUE — STATUE  OF  WEBSTER — THE  MARBLE  ARCH — THE  MALL — STATUES  ON  THB 
MALL — THE  PLAZA — THE  VINE-COVERED  WALK — THE  ARCADE — THE  TERRACE — THE  ESPLAN- 
ADE THE  BETHESDA  FOUNTAIN  THE  LAKE — BOATING  SKATING  SCENES  THE  CONSERVA- 
TORY WATER — THE  RAMBLE — THE  CAVE — THE  BELVIDERE — THE  CROTON    RESERVOIRS — THE 

UPPER  PAP.K  HARLEM  BEER — THE  OLD  POWDER  HOUSE  THE  METROPOLITAN  MUSEUM  OF 

ART — THE  DI  CESNOLA  COLLECTION — THE  OBELISK — A  VENERABLE  RELIC  OF  THE  ANCIENT 
WORLD  THE  AMERICAN  MUSEUM  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY — THE  TRANSVERSE  ROADS —  A  TRI- 
UMPH OF  ENGINEERING— THE  PARK  COMMISSION — THE  POLICE  REGULATIONS — PARK  TRAFFIC. 

Thirty  years  ago  the  portion  of  Manhattan  Island 
now  occupied  by  the  Central  Park  was  a  barren, 
rocky  waste,  broken  by  swamps,  and  as  uninviting  to 
the  eye  and  dangerous  to  health  as  the  most  vivid 
imagination  could  fancy.  It  was  an  eyesore  to  the 
island,  and  the  most  enthusiastic  speculator  in  real 
estate  despaired  of  its  ever  being  put  to  any  useful  or 
beneficial  purpose.  Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  whole 
city,  therefore,  when  it  was  seriously  proposed  to  con- 
vert this  wretched  looking  tract  into  a  grand  park,  which 
should  be  a  lasting  ornament  to  the  Metropolis. , 

For  some  years  the  want  of  a  place  of  public  recrea- 
tion larger  than  any  of  the  existing  squares  or  parks 
of  the  city,  had  been  seriously  felt.  There  was  liter- 
ally no  place  in  which  a  large  number  of  persons  could 
assemble  for  pleasure,  or  to  which  they  could  resort  on 
Sunday  or  holidays  for  a  quiet  day  away  from  the  cares 
of  their  homes  and  their  work.  All  the  pleasure  grounds 


DEMAND  FOR  A  PUBLIC  PARK. 


441 


fey  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city.  For  owners*  of  fine 
horses,  or  equipages  of  any  kind,  there  was  no  driving 
place  save  the  dusty  Harlem  Lane  or  Bloomingdale 
Road.  It  was  universally  admitted  that  *a  park  must 
be  provided  within  the  city  limits,  at  some  point  easy  of 
access,  and  that  such  a  pleasure  ground  must  be  in 
keeping  with  the  splendor  of  the  city,  of  which  it  must 
form  for  ages  a  principal  ornament.  The  advocates  of 
the  scheme  were  perplexed,  however,  by  the  difficulty 
of  finding  a  suitable  site  on  Manhattan  Island. 

In  April,  1851,  Mayor  Kingsland  brought  the  subject 
before  the  Common  Council,  in  a  message  in  which  h(* 
urged  that  a  suitable  site  for  a  park  should  be  chosen 
at  once,  before  the  upper  part  of  the  island  should  be 
covered  with  streets  and  buildings.  The  Council 
promptly  considered  the  matter,  and  the  Committee  to 
which  it  was  referred  reported  in  favor  of  purchasing 
''Jones'  Woods,"  a  tract  of  about  60  acres  lying 
between  Third  avenue  and  East  River  and  above  66t]i 
street  It  was  well  wooded,  had  a  fine  frontage  on  th« 
East  River,  and  in  the  opinion  of  the  Committee  was* 
the  most  desirable  site  in  the  cit}^  for  the  location  of  ^ 
park.  The  scheme  was  warmly  supported  by  numberv 
of  leading  citizens,  and  came  near  being  successful.  A 
bill  for  the  purchase  of  "Jones'  Woods"  was  introduced 
into  the  State  Legislature,  and  was  only  defeated  by  a 
quarrel  between  two  of  the  city  members  of  that  body. 
The  Legislature  then  appointed  a  select  Committee  to 
ascertain  whether  a  more  suitable  site  could  not  be 
found.  The  attention  of  the  Committee  was  directed 
to  the  rocky  and  swampy  region  between  Fifth  and 
Eighth  avenues  and  59th  and  iioth  streets.    It  was 


442 


NEW  YORK. 


admitted  that  the  location  was  the  most  central  and 
convenient  of  any  on  the  island,  but  the  enemies  of 
the  scheme  declared  that  it  could  never  be  converted 
into  an  ornamental  park,  as  the  natural  difficulties  were 
so  great  that  it  would  require  a  fabulous  sum  to  over- 
come them,  and  that  trees  and  shrubbery  could  never 
be  made  to  grow  there.  Nevertheless  the  Committee 
were  so  much  impressed  with  the  location  that  they 
reported  a  bill,  which  became  a  law  on  the  23d  of  July^ 
1853,  authorizing  the  purchase  of  the  land  and  its  con- 
version into  a  Park.  The  land  was  purchased  between 
1853  and  1856,  and  in  May  of  the  latter  year  the 
Common  Council  appointed  a  Board  of  Commissioners^ 
to  prepare  and  carry  out  a  plan  for  the  establishment 
of  the  Park,  satisfactory  surveys  of  the  land  having 
been  previously  made  by  Mr.  Egbert  L.  Viele  and  a 
corps  of  assistants.  The  first  Board  was  composed  of 
the  Mayor  and  Street  Commissioners,  as  ex-officio 
members,  Washington  Irving,  George  Bancroft,  James 
E.  Cooley,  Charles  F.  Briggs,  James  Phalen,  Charles 
A.  Dana,  Stewart  Brown,  and  several  other  leading 
citizens.  Designs  were  presented  by  Frederick 
Olmstead  and  Calvert  Vaux,  and  being  accepted,  those 
gentlemen  were  entrusted  with  the  work  of  laying  out 
the  Park. 

To  the  majority  of  the  citizens  of  New  York,  the  task 
assumed  by  Messrs.  Olmstead  and  Vaux  seemed  a 
hopeless  one.  The  region  selected  for  the  Park  was 
wretched,  barren  and  sickly.  Nature  had  done  noth- 
ing more  for  it  than  to  render  it  rugged  and  uneven.. 
It  was  covered  for  a  considerable  extent  with  wretched 
chanties  containing  a  squalid  and  filthy  population,  many 


MAKING  THE  PARK. 


44S 


of  whom  pursued  disgusting  occupations,  which  being- 
contrary  to  law,  were  engaged  in  only  at  night.  The 
place  had  long  been  a  dumping  ground  for  rubbish  of 
all  descriptions,  a  low  scrub  underbrush  grew  rankly 
over  it,  and  pools  of  stagnant  water  filled  the  hollows 
between  the  rocky  bluffs.  Scarcely  a  tree  grew  along 
the  whole  space,  and  the  grass  to  be  found  there  was 
of  the  poorest  quality.  The  work  of  grading  streets 
through  the  region  had  been  begun,  and  the  rude 
embankments  and  ragged  rock  excavations  thus  cre- 
ated added  much  to  the  natural  irregularities  of  the  sur- 
face. Nevertheless,  Messrs.  Olmstead  and  Vaux  were 
confident  of  success.  They  went  to  work  promptly, 
were  liberally  sustained  by  the  Park  Commission  and 
the  City  Government,  and  the  result  of  their  labors  is 
now  seen  in  the  magnificent  Central  Park,  which  occu- 
pies this  once  wretched  site,  and  which  is  the  admira- 
tion of  ths  whole  country  and  the  especial  pride  of  New 
York. 

The  Central  Park  derives  its  name  from  its  situation 
in  the  centre  of  Manhattan  Island.  It  is  a  parallelo 
gram  in  shape,  and  is  bounded  on  the  south  by  59th 
street,  on  the  east  by  Fifth  avenue,  on  the  north  by 
I  loth  street,  and  on  the  west  by  Eighth  avenue.  It  is 
about  two  miles  and  a  half  long,  half  a  mile  wide,  and 
comprises  an  area  of  eight  hundred  and  forty-three 
acres.  It  ranks  next  to  Fairmount  Park,  at  Philadel- 
phia, as  the  largest  in  the  Union,  and  is  surpassed  in 
extent  by  only  three  of  the  great  parks  oi"  Europe — 
the  Bois  de  Bologne,  at  Paris,  the  Prater,  at  Vienna, 
and  the  Phoenix,  at  Dublin.  Nine  miles  of  carriage 
drives,  five  miles  of  bridle-paths,  and  twenty-five  miles 


444 


NEW  YORK. 


of  walks,  are  laid  off  within  its  limits.  More  than  five 
hundred  thousand  trees  and  shrubs  have  been  planted 
in  the  grounds  with  success,  the  soil  being  adapted  to 
the  growth  of  almost  any  kind  of  vegetation.  The 
•rocky  ridge  which  forms  the  backbone  of  the  island 
passes  through  the  centre  of  the  Park,  and  has  been 
made  the  means  of  rendering  the  scenery  very  beauti- 
ful and  diversified.  The  stagnant  pools  have  been 
converted  into  charming  lakes,  the  ragged  rocks  have 
been  crowned  with  shrubbery  and  converted  into  pic- 
turesque adornments.  Every  defect  has  been  changed 
into  a  beauty,  and  the  admiration  of  the  visitor  is  di- 
vided between  the  loveliness  around  him  and  the  skill 
which  could  convert  such  a  waste  into  a  fairy  land. 

The  wooded  portion  of  the  Park  covers  about  fouf 
hundred  acres,  and  is  intersected  in  all  directions  with 
walks,  drives,  and  bridle  paths.  Charming  views  greet 
the  visitor  at  every  step,  and  lovely  lawns  stretch  away 
on  isvery  hand. 

The  total  cost  of  the  Central  Park  has  been  about 

5,ooo,0(DO,  including  ^5,028,884,  expended  in  pur- 
<:hasing  the  land.  Large  sums  are  spent  annually  in 
improvements. 

In  the  centre  of  the  grounds,  and  upon  the  highest 
point  within  the  enclosure,  stands  the  Croton  Reser- 
voir, which  divides  the  Park  into  two  sections,  known 
as  the  Upper  and  Lower  Parks.  Up  to  the  present 
time  the  greatest  number  of  improvements  have  been 
bestowed  upon  the  Lower  Park,  which  contains  the 
Pond,  the  Mall,  the  Terrace,  the  Lake,  the  Ramble,  the 
Dairy,  and  a  number  of  buildings- used  for  Park  pur- 
poses. This  portion  of  the  grounds  comprises  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  specimens  of  landscape  gardening 


ENTRANCES  TO  THE  PARK. 


445 


in  the  world,  and  abounds  in  groves  of  noble  trees, 
lovely  lawns,  walks  and  drives,  and  is  ornamented  with 
statuary,  a  lovely  lake,  beautiful  fountains,  and  hand- 
some buildings.  The  Upper  Park  is  more  rugged,  and 
constitutes  a  sort  of  miniature  mountainous  region, 
^hich  is  being  improved  and  beautified  with  each  suc- 
ceeding year. 

■  The  principal  entrances  to  the  Pai-k  are  on  59th 
street.  The  Fifth  and  Eighth  avenue  entrances  are 
for  vehicles  as  well  as  pedestrians,  while  the  Sixth  and 
Seventh  avenue  entrances  are  for  pedestrians  only. 
Other  entrances  are  on  Fifth  and  Eighth  avenues  and 
1 1  oth  street.  All  these  will  eventually  be  ornamented 
with  noble  gateways  and  arches.  The  names  of  the 
various  entrances  are  as  follows,  and  convey  some 
idea  of  the  emblematical  designs  to  be  followed  in  the 
erection  of  the  gateways: — 


Fifth  avenue 

and  SQth  street,  The  Scholars'  Gate. 

Sixth 

ti 

a 

a 

(( 

it 

Artists'  Gate. 

Seventh 

u 

it 

it 

(« 

it 

Artisans'  Gate. 

Eighth 

<< 

« 

it 

ii 

it 

Merchants'  Gate. 

Eighth 

(( 

it 

72d 

it 

it 

Women's  Gate. 

Eighth 

<i 

ii 

79th 

it 

it 

Hunters'  Gate. 

Eighth 

(< 

it 

85  th 

ii 

a 

Mariners'  Gate. 

Eighth  . 

<( 

It 

96th 

it 

it 

Gate  of  All  Saints. 

Eighth 

(t 

*  it 

1 00th 

it 

ti 

Boys'  Gate. 

Eighth 

u 

<< 

1 1  oth 

a 

ti 

Strangers'  Gate. 

Fifth 

ii 

72d 

it 

it 

Children's  Gate. 

Fifth 

(< 

ti 

79th 

ii 

it 

Miners'  Gate. 

Fifth 

(( 

it 

90th 

it 

it 

Engineers'  Gate. 

Fifth 

ii 

a 

96th 

it 

a 

Woodman's  Gate. 

Fifth 

H 

ti 

I02d 

it 

ti 

Girls'  Gate. 

Fifth 

(( 

it 

1 1  oth 

ti 

ti 

Pioneers'  Gate. 

Sixth 

ii 

a 

1 1  oth 

ti 

n 

Farmers'  Gate. 

Seventh 

ii 

it 

I  loth 

n 

ti 

Warriors'  Gate. 

446 


NEW  YORK. 


The  Park  is  easily  reached  by  the  Eighth  avenut^ 
Broadway,  Sixth  avenue,  Madison  avenue,  and  59tl^ 
street  (Belt  Road)  Horse  Cars,  and  by  all  the  lines  of 
the  Elevated  Railroads.  From  the  entrances  on  59th 
street  charming  pathways  lead  directly  to  the  Marble 
Arch  and  the  Mall. 

A  few  yards  from  the  Fifth  avenue  gate  is  a  fine 
bronze  bust  of  Alexander  Von  Humboldt,  by  Professor 
Blaiser,  of  Berlin.  It  was  presented  to  the  Park  by 
the  German  citizens  of  New  York,  on  the  14th  of 
September,  1869,  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of 
the  birth  of  the  great  scientist.  Immediately  back  of 
this  bust  is  The  Pond,  a  small  sheet  of  water,  irregular 
in  shape,  and  lying  along  the  lower  end  of  the  Park 
from  Fifth  to  Sixth  avenue.  It  covers  about  five  acres» 
and  lies  in  a  deep  hollow,  surrounded  by  steep  and 
picturesque  banks.  The  water  consists  of  the  natural 
drainage  of  the  Park,  and  artificial  means  are  provided 
for  running  it  off  into  the  city  sewers  should  it  rise  too 
high.  A  beautifully  shaded  walk  extends  around  the 
eastern  and  southern  shores. 

Just  within  the  Eighth  avenue  entrance  stands  a  fine 
statue  of  Commerce,  in  bronze,  presented  by  Mr. 
Stephen  B.  Guion. 

On  the  east  side  of  the  Park,  opposite  the  Fifth 
avenue  and  64th  street  entrance,  is  an  old  building 
which  somewhat  resembles  the  Cadet  barracks  at  West 
Point.  It  was  erected  and  used  by  the  State  of  New 
York  as  an  arsenal,  but  was  purchased  by  the  city  in 
1856,  for  the  uses  of  the  Park.  In  the  lower  stones 
and  in  several  buildings  around  it  is  a  fine  collection  of 
animals,  birds,  and  reptiles,  constituting  the  Menagerie 


THE  MENAGERIE. 


447 


of  the  Park.  In  the  winter  the  collection  is  greatly  en- 
larged by  numerous  animals  and  birds  which  are  sent 
here  for  safe  keeping  by  traveling  shows  which  go  into 
quarters  in  New  York  during  the  cold  season.  This 
is  a  favorite  resort  with  visitors,  especially  with  children, 
and  is  always  crowded.  The  top  floor  of  the  Arsenal 
building  contains  the  Meteorological  Observatory, 
which  is  under  the  charge  of  Professor  Daniel  Draper. 
Some  of  the  rooms  are  open  to  the  public,  and  a  num- 
ber of  self-recording  instruments  for  measuring  the 
velocity  and  direction  of  the  wind,  the  fall  of  rain  and 
snow,  the  variations  of  temperature,  etc.,  may  be  ex- 
amined. The  remainder  of  the  building  is  taken  up 
with  the  offices  of  the  Park  Commission  and  officials, 
and  a  police  station. 

The  southwest  corner  of  the  Park  is  occupied  by  the 
ball  ground,  a  fine  stretch  of  lawn,  about  ten  acres  in 
extent.  It  is  set  apart  for  the  use  of  persons  wishing 
to  play  base  ball,  cricket,  croquet,  or  lawn  tennis,  and 
is  provided  with  a  comfortable  brick  cottage  for  the  use 
of  the  players. 

Immediately  north  of  the  Pond  is  the  South  Trans- 
verse Road,  and  on  the  high  ground  above  it  is  the 
Dairy,  a  tasteful  gothic  structure  of  brick  and  stone. 
Here  pure  milk  and  refreshments  may  be  had  at  mod- 
erate prices.  Residents  of  the  city  can  always  pur- 
chase fresh  milk  or  cream  here,  for  sick  children,  and  a 
great  quantity  is  sold  daily  for  this  purpose.  The 
proximity  of  the  Dairy  to  the  Transverse  Road,  on 
which  a  portion  of  it  opens,  enables  that  establishment 
to  receive  its  supplies  from  vehicles  in  that  road,  and 
averts  the  necessity  of  bringing  wagons  and  carts  into 
the  Park  drives. 


448 


NEW  YORK. 


A  few  yards  from  the  Dairy  is  the  Children's  Sunt- 
mer  House,  a  large  rustic  pavilion  for  the  special 
accommodation  of  children  and  their  nurses,  and  close 
by  is  a  cottage  for  the  use  of  ladies  and  children.  A 
number  of  patent  swings  stand  near  the  Summer 
House,  and  are  always  filled  with  merry  little  folks. 
A  few  steps  north  of  the  swings  is  "The  Carrousel,"  a 
circular  building,  fitted  up  with  hobby  horses  and 
merry  go  rounds,  for  the  amusement  of  younger 
children. 

Immediately  north  of  the  Ball  Ground  is  The  Green^ 
or,  as  it  is  usually  called  by  visitors,  the  Common.  It 
is  a  fine  meadow  of  sixteen  acres,  and  is  occupied  by 
a  flock  of  imported  sheep,  in  charge  of  a  shepherd  and 
his  dog.  Visitors  are  rigidly  excluded  from  the  Green, 
save  on  Saturday,  and  sometimes  on  Sunday,  when 
they  are  permitted  to  roam  over  it  at  pleasure.  The 
northwest  portion  of  the  Green  terminates  in  a  hill,  on 
the  highest  part  of  which  is  a  flashy  looking  building, 
in  which  mineral  waters  are  sold. 

Opposite  The  Green,  and  running  along  the  Eighth 
avenue  wall,  is  The  Sheepfold,  a  range  of  picturesque 
buildings  of  red  brick,  in  which  the  sheep  are  sheltered 
at  night  and  during  the  bleak  days  of  winter. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  Park,  a  little  way  above  the 
Sheepfold,  is  a  bronze  bust  of  the  great  Italian  patriot 
and  agitator,  Joseph  Mazzini.  It  is  of  heroic  size,  and 
stands  on  a  pedestal  of  granite,  ten  feet  in  height.  It 
was  presented  to  the  Park  by  the  Italian  residents  of 
New  York,  in  1878. 

A  short  distance  above  this  bust,  and  also  on  the 
west  drive,  near  7 2d  street,  is  J.  Q.  A.  Ward's  noble 


STATUES  IN  THE  PARK. 


44^ 


statue  of  "A  Private  Soldier  of  the  Seventh  Regiment."' 
It  is  of  bronze,  of  heroic  size,  and  represents  a  soldier 
in  the  uniform  of  the  regiment,  standing  at  rest,  and 
looking  off  into  the  distance.  The  statue  rests  upon  a 
handsome  pedestal  of  granite,  and  was  erected  by  the 
regiment  to  the  memory  of  its  members  who  fell 
during  the  civil  war.  The  pedestal  is  ornamented  with 
trophies  in  bronze,  near  the  base,  and  with  bronze 
shields  on  each  side,  emblazoned  with  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  of  the  National  flag.  On  the  principal  or  east 
front  of  the  pedestal  is  the  inscription,  in  bronze  letters. 
Pro  Patria  et  Gloria.  Each  face  of  the  pedestal  con- 
tains ah  inscription  cut  in  the  granite.  These  are  as 
follows:  On  the  east  face,  "The  Seventh  Regiment 
Memorial  of  1861-1865."  On  the  north  face,  "In 
Honor  of  the  Members  of  the  Seventh  Regiment,  N.  G., 
S.  N.  Y.,  fifty^-eight  in  number,  who  gave  their  lives  in 
defence  of  the  Union — 1 861 -1865."  On  the  west  face, 
"Erected  by  the  Seventh  Regiment  National  Guard, 
S.  N.  Y.,  MDCCCLXiii."  On  the  south  face,  the  inscrip- 
tion is  similar  to  that  on  the  north  face. 

At  the  intersection  of  the  West  Drive  and  the  drive 
from  7 2d  street  is  a  bronze  statue,  of  heroic  size,  of 
Daniel  Webster,  modeled  by  Ball,  of  Boston,  and  pre- 
sented to  the  Park  in  1876,  by  Gordon  W.  Burnham, 
Esq. 

A  little  to  the  northeast  of  the  Dairy,  and  almost  m 
the  centre  of  the  grounds,  from  east  to  west,  is  the 
Marble  Arch,  one  of  the  most  costly  and  beaiitiful 
structures  in  the  Park.  *  It  is  constructed  of  pure  white 
marble,  and  its  office  is  to  carry  the  carriage-drive, 
in  an  unbroken  line,  to  the  Lake,  and  at  the  same  time 

29 


450 


NEW  YORK. 


to  furnish  easy  access  from  the  lower  level  of  the  south- 
western part  of  the  Park  to  the  Mall.  All  the  paths 
from  the  Sixth,  Seventh  and  Eighth  avenue  entrances 
on  59th  street,  converge  here,  and  lead  to  a  handsome 
and  wide  arch  of  marble,  entering  it  at  its  western  end. 
On  each  side  of  the  arch  is  placed  a  marble  bench, 
which  furnishes  a  delightful  and  cool  resting-place  for 
visitors  in  the  hot  days  of  summer.  At  the  eastern 
end  of  the  arch  is  an  open  area,  walled  and  paved  with 
marble,  and  provided  with  a  drinking  fountain.  Broad 
stairways  of  marble,  at  the  northern  and  southern  ends 
of  the  area,  lead  from  the  archway  to  the  Mall  above. 

The  Mall  is  the  name  given  to  the  broad  avenue, 
lined  with  four  rows  of  American  elms,  and  ornamented 
with  statuary,  extending  from  the  Marble  Arch  to  the 
Terrace.  It  is  about  one-third  of  a  mile  in  length, 
about  two  hundred  feet  in  width,  is  bordered  on  each 
side  by  lovely  lawns,  and  constitutes  the  grand  prome- 
nade of  the  Park.  Along  the  southern  end  of  the  ave- 
nue are  bronze  statues  of  Fitz-Greene  Halleck  (by  H. 
K.  Browne),  Sir  Walter  Scott  (a  copy  of  the  statue  in 
the  Scott  Memorial  at  Edinburgh),  Shakspeare  (by 
J.  Q.  A.  Ward,  the  finest  work  of  art  in  the  Park), 
Robert  Burns,  and  Alexander  Hamilton.  These  give 
an  air  of  dignity  and  beauty  to  this  portion  of  the  Park. 
A  little  to  the  west  of  the  Mall  is  an  ideal  life-size  fig- 
ure in  bronze,  representing  an  Indian  hunter — the  work 
of  J.  Q.  A.  Ward,  the  designer  of  the  Shakspeare 
statue.  Near  the  northern  end  of  the  Mall  is  the 
Music  Pavilion,  a  handsome  and  gayly  ornamented 
structure,  from  which  concerts  are  given  by  a  fine  band 
on  certain  days  of  the  week  during  the  warm  season. 


THE  MALL. 


451 


These  concerts  are  excellent,  and  draw  large  audiences, 
which  are  accommodated  with  seats  placed  near  the 
music  stand. 

The  Mall  terminates  at  its  northern  end  in  a  spa- 
cious and  handsome  Plaza,  adorned  with  a  couple  of 
revolving  fountains  and  a  number  of  ornamental  bird 


cages  placed  on  iron  posts.  Flowers  and  plants  abound 
here  in  the  season. 

The  northeastern  side  of  the  Mall  is  bordered  by  a 
pretty  trelliswork  of  iron,  forming  an  arbor,  and  raised 
about  twenty  feet  above  the  promenade.  This  is  called 
the  Vine  Covered  Walk,  and  over  it  are  trained  roses, 
honeysuckles,  and  wisterias.     It  is  a  delightful  resting 


452 


NEW  YORK. 


place,  from  which  one  can  listen  to  the  music  of  the 
concerts  or  watch  the  crowds  on  the  Mall  and  the  Ter- 
race. Both  the  Mall  and  this  arbor  command  fine 
views  of  a  large  portion  of  the  Park.  The  eastern 
side  of  the  Vine-Covered  Walk  opens  upon  a  circular 
space  to  which  carriages  are  admitted.  Across  this 
circle  is  the  Casino,  a  pretty  cottage  of  stone,  contain- 
ing an  excellent  restaurant.  Good  meals  are  served 
here,  but  the  charges  are  somewhat  high.  The  grounds 
to  the  east  of  the  Casino  contain  the  famous  group  in 
brownstone,  known  as  "Auld  Lang  Syne,"  the  work 
of  Robert  Thompson,  a  self-taught  sculptor,  and  for- 
merly a  stone  mason. 

At  the  northern  end  of  the  Mall  a  broad  stairway 
leads  down  to  the  Arcade,  or  the  hall  beneath  the  Ter- 
race. This  hall  is  paved  with  handsome  encaustic  tiles, 
and  the  walls  and  ceilings  are  inlaid  with  encaustic 
tiles  of  a  finer  quality,  ornamented  with  the  most  sump- 
tuous designs.  This  magnificent  apartment  is  used  a'^ 
an  ice  cream  saloon. 

The  northern  end  of  the  Mall  is  separated  from  the 
Terrace  by  a  massive  and  highly  decorated  screen  of 
Albert  stone,  pierced  with  two  large  openings  whicli 
give  access  from  the  Mall  to  the  Terrace. 

The  Terrace  is  constructed  of  Albert  freestone,  of  a 
soft  yellowish  brown  color,  and  is  one  of  the  most  im- 
posing structures  in  the  grounds.  It  is  provided  with 
a  footway  on  each  side  and  a  carriage  drive  in  the  cen- 
tre, and  overlooks  the  Lower  Terrace  or  Esplanade, 
and  the  Lake.  At  th^  northern  end  two  grand  flights 
of  stone  stairs  lead  to  the  Lower  Terrace,  and  are 
ornamented  with  exquisite  carvings  of  birds,  animals, 


THE  lowp:r  terrace. 


fruits,  etc.,  and  beautiful  tracery,  cut  in  the  soft  stone 
work.  On  the  east  and  west  sides  of  the  stairways, 
the  adjoining  grounds  are  lavishly  ornamented  with 
flowers,  and  slope  gracefully  from  the  Terrace  to  the 
Lake. 

The  Lower  Terrace  or  Esplanade,  is  a  large  open 
space  extending  from  the  stairways  to  the  Lake.  It  is 
paved  with  stone  blocks,  and  at  the  water  s  edge  is  a 
low  stone  wall  with  a  seat  running  around  the  inner 
side.  Tall  flag  staffs  rise  along  the  water  front,  and 
sustain  handsome  banners,  which  give  to  the  place  a 
gay  appearance. 

In  the  centre  of  the  Lower  Terrace  is  a  large  stone 
basin,  in  the  middle  of  which  stands  the  Bethesda 
Fountain,  the  most  beautiful  ornament  of  the  Park. 


THE  LOWER  TERRACE   IN  CENTRAL  PARK. 


The  figure  and  the  pedestal  on  which  it  stands  are  of 
bronze,  as  are  also  the  four  smaller  figures  beneath 
the  upper  basin.  The  fountain  is  the  work  of  Miss 
Emma  Stebbins,  of  New  York;  the  design  was  exe- 
cuted in  Rome,  during  the  winters  of  1864-67,  and  the 
models  were  sent  to  Munich  and  cast  in  bronze.  The 


454 


NEW  YORK. 


idea  of  the  work  was  suggested  by  the  account  of  the 
Pool  of  Bethesda,  given  in  the  2d,  3d  and  4th  verses  of 
the  fifth  chapter  of  St.  John's  Gospel,  especially  the  4th 
verse,  which  relates  that  ''An  angel  went  down  at  a 
certain  season  into  the  pool  and  troubled  the  water." 
The  principal  and  uppermost  figure  of  the  group  rep- 
resents an  angel  with  outspread  wings,  in  the  act  of 
alighting  on  a  mass  of  rock.  The  arms  are  extended 
in  blessing,  and  the  angel  bears  in  her  left  hand  a 
bunch  of  lilies,  emblems  of  purity,  and  wears  across 
her  breast  the  cross  bands  of  the  messenger  angel. 
From  the  left  hand  trickles  a  stream  of  water,  and  from 
the  mass  of  rock  over  which  she  seems  to  hover  the 
water  gushes  out  into  the  upper  basin,  emblematic  of 
Temperance,  Purity,  Health  and  Peace.  At  the  feet 
of  these  figures  is  a  second  and  larger  basin,  from 
which  the  water  falls  into  the  circular  pool  below.  The 
fountain  plays  constantly  during  the  mild  weather,  but 
in  winter  is  covered  over,  to  protect  it  from  the  severe 
frosts.  It  is  exceedingly  delicate  and  beautiful  in  con- 
ception and  execution,  and  is  deservedly  admired  by 
all  who  visit  it. 

The  Lake  is  a  lovely  sheet  of  water  bordering  the 
Terrace,  from  which  it  stretches  away  to  the  east  and 
west.  It  is  irregular  in  shape,  and  is  divided  into  two 
nearly  distinct  and  unequal  parts  by  a  narrow  strait, 
crossed  by  a  graceful  iron  bridge.  The  larger  and 
handsomer  part  sweeps  away  from  the  bridge  to  the 
west  and  north,  with  several  arms.  This  lovely  sheet 
of  water  covers  an  area  of  about  twenty  acres.  The 
northern  shore  is  high  and  rocky,  terminating  at  several 
points  in  bold  headlands,  and  is  occupied  by  the  Ram- 


456 


NEW  YORK. 


ble.  To  the  east  of  the  Terrace  is  a  handsome  boat 
house,  where  rowboats  may  be  hired  for  a  ride  around 
the  Lake  for  a  small  sum.  In  the  winter  this  building 
is  used  for  the  accommodation  of  skaters.  On  fair 
days  the  Lake  is  covered  with  fleets  of  boats  manned 
by  expert  rowers  in  sailor  costume,  and  filled  with  gay 
parties  of  pleasure  seekers.  Landing  places  are 
located  at  various  points  on  the  shore,  and  are  orna- 
mented with  rustic  structures  which  command  fine 
views  of  the  water  and  surrounding  grounds.  Num- 
bers of  snow-white  swans  float  dreamily  over  the 
edge  of  the  Lake,  waiting  for  food  thrown  to  them  by 
visitors. 

No  lovelier  sheet  of  water  is  to  be  found  on  the 
globe  than  this  beautiful  lake,  the  larger  portion  of 
which  lies  west  of  the  strait  and  the  Bow  Bridge.  On 
the  north  side  the  shore  rises  up  in  steep  bluffs ;  on  the 
south  is  the  magnificent  Terrace,  and  the  eastern  and 
western  shores  slope  gracefully  in  verdant  lawns  from 
the  main  carriage  drives  to  the  water.  From  whatever 
point  on  the  shore  you  view  it,  the  quiet  lake  stretches 
away,  the  very  embodiment  of  peace  and  repose,  its 
clear  bosom  gleaming  in  the  bright  rays  of  the  sun, 
and  reflecting  the  various  objects  which  surround  it. 
On  a  bright  moonlight  night  in  the  summer  the  scene 
is  indescribably  beautiful.  The  waters  lie  gleaming  in 
the  golden  light,  breaking  into  myriads  of  flashing  rip- 
ples as  a  ghost-like  swan  glides  majestically  by,  or  as 
they  are  broken  by  the  dip  of  oars.  Scores  of  plea- 
sure boats,  well  filled,  and  each  bearing  a  red  or  blue 
light,  skim  over  the  surface  like  so  man)'  fire-flies  ;  the 
air  is  musical  with  the  dash  of  oars  and  the  sound  of 


SCENES  ON  THE  LAKE. 


457 


merry  voices ;  and  the  breeze  comes  off  the  shore 
laden  with  the  rich  perfume  of  flowers.  Above  and 
below  this  magic  realm  the  great  city  toils  on,  sending 
up  its  ceaseless  roar  heavenward ;  sorrow  and  care, 
mirth  and  recklessness,  vice  and  crime,  hold  the  dwell- 
ers in  their  resistless  grasp;  but  here  all  is  peace  and 
beauty.  This  is  a  charmed  world,  and  you  can  enjoy 
it  regardless  of  the  busy  Babel  by  which  it  is  sur- 
rounded. The  sound  of  a  distant  bell  tolling  the 
hours,  the  scream  of  a  locomotive,  or  the  hoarse 
whistle  of  a  steamer  in  the  river,  are  the  only  sounds 
of  the  outer  world  heard  here,  and  you  scarcely  heed 
them  as  you  surrender  yourself  to  the  witchery  of  the 
scene  around  you. 

During  the  winter  the  Lake  presents  a  gay  and  bril- 
liant sight.  The  large  boat  house  near  the  Terrace  is 
thronged  with  visitors,  some  of  whom  come  to  enjoy 
the  skating  and  others  to  watch  the  sport.  The  water 
of  the  lake  is  covered  to  a  depth  sufficient  to  prevent 
serious  accidents  in  case  the  ice  should  break,  and 
every  precaution  is  taken  to  ensure  the  safety  of  the 
skaters.  The  ice  is  carefully  examined  every  day, 
weak  spots  are  marked  with  danger  signs,  and  every 
night  the  surface  of  the  ice  is  scraped  smooth,  to  ren- 
der it  fit  for  the  next  day's  sport.  Huge  reflectors  are 
placed  behind  the  gas-lamps  on  the  shore,  and  at  night 
these  shed  a  flood  of  light  over  the  frozen  surface,  ren- 
dering it  as  bright  as  day,  and  enabling  the  skaters  to 
enjoy  their  pleasure  until  midnight.  Printed  rules  for 
the  government  of  skaters  are  posted  at  conspicuous 
points,  and  all  persons  are  required  to  conform  to  them 
on  pain  of  being  compelled  to  leave  the  ice.    A  large 


458 


NEW  YORK. 


red  ball  is  hoisted  on  the  Arsenal  building  when  the  ice 
is  in  good  condition,  and  the  cars  of  the  railway  lines 
running  to  the  Park  are  provided  with  small  white 
flags,  on  each  of  which  is  printed  a  red  ball,  thus  in- 
forming the  public  that  their  favorite  winter  pastime  is. 
the  order  of  the  day.  Buildings  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  skaters  are  erected  on  the  shore  of  the  Pond 
and  the  Upper  Lake,  which  also  furnish  their  share  of 
amusement.  Thousands  of  skaters  are  on  the  ice 
daily,  and  the  scene  at  such  times  is  well  worth  wit- 
nessing. 

To  the  east  of  the  Terrace,  along  the  Fifth  avenue 
side  of  the  Park,  is  a  small,  oval  lake,  covering  about 
two  acres  and  a  half  of  space.  This  is  the  Conserva- 
tory Water,  and  is  used  principally  by  the  young  folks 
for  miniature  yacht  races.  At  some  future,  and  it  is 
hoped  not  distant  day,  the  grand  Conservatory  of  the 
Park  will  be  erected  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  water, 
and  will  front  on  Fifth  avenue. 

,The  high  ground  north  of  the  Lake  is  known  as  the 
llamble.  This  is  one  of  the  most  charming  portions  of 
rhe  Park,  extends  as  far  northward  as  the  old  Reser- 
voir, lies  between  the  East  and  West  Drives,  and  covers 
an  area  of  about  thirty-six  acres.  It  is  a  labyrinth  of 
winding  foot-paths,  well  shaded,  and  abounding  in  ex- 
quisite scenery,  deep  thickets,  little  brooks  and  pictur- 
esque waterfalls  crossed  by  miniature  bridges,  small 
stretches  of  lawn,  bits  of  rock  work,  and  delightful 
views  of  the  Lake.  The  grounds  are  well  supplied 
with  benches  and  rustic  seats,  on  which  the  visitor  may 
rest  and  enjoy  the  beauties  of  the  scene  at  his  ease. 
At  several  points  winding  paths  lead  down  to  rustic 


THE  UPPER  PARK. 


459' 


arbors  on  the  Lake  shore.  At  the  upper  end  of  the 
Ramble  a  path  leads  into  a  rocky  glen,  at  the  end  of 
which  is  situated  the  Cave,  a  natural  opening  in  the 
rocks,  of  considerable  size.  Here  are  kept  a  number 
of  owls,  whose  solemn  air  of  wisdom  is  heightened  by 
the  constant  gloom  in  which  they  dwell. 

The  Ramble  terminates  on  the  north,  in  the  highest 
point  in  the  Park.  Here  is  located  the  Belvedere,  an 
open  space  walled  and  paved  with  stone,  from  which 
rises  an  ornamental  tower  of  granite,  fifty  feet  high. 
Visitors  are  admitted  to  this  tower,  and  from  it  can 
command  a  view  of  the  entire  Park,  the  Reservoirs,  the- 
city  and  country  to  the  northward  as  far  as  Harlem  and 
the  High  Bridge,  the  entrance  to^  Long  Island  Sound, 
and  the  portion  of  the  city  lying  immediately  below  the 
Park.  The  Belvedere  stands  at  the  southwest  corner 
of  the  Old  Reservoir,  and  can  be  approached  only  oa 
foot. 

Immediately  north  of  the  Belvedere  are  the  Crotorv 
Reservoirs,  two  in  number,  known  as  the  Old  and  New 
Reservoirs.  The  former  lies  in  the  centre  of  the 
grounds,  and  extends  from  79th  street  to  86th  street, 
and  the  latter  occupies  almost  the  entire  width  of  the 
Park,  from  86th  to  96th  street.  Together  they  cover 
an  area  of  one  hundred  and  forty-three  acres.  A 
bridle  path  and  a  walk  encircle  the  New  Reservoir  and 
are  much  resorted  to  on  account  of  the  coolness  of  the 
location  and  the  fine  view. 

Beyond  the  Reservoirs  is  the  Upper  Park,  naturally 
the  most  beautiful  portion  of  the  grounds.  But  little 
has  been  done  up  to  the  present  time  in  the  way  of 
improvement.    Its  principal  attractions  are  Mount  St 


460  NEW  YORK. 

Vincent,  on  the  east  side,  above  which  is  a  pretty 
sheet  of  water,  known  as  Harlem  Meer,  occupying  the 
northeast  corner  of  the  Park,  and  covering  an  area  of 
twelve  and  a  half  acres ;  the  Pool,  a  small  lake  of  two 
acres  on  the  west  side, just  above  looth  street;  and 
the  old  Powder  House  at  the  extreme  northern  end  of 
the  grounds,  near  Sixth  avenue  and  iioth  street.  A 
large  part  of  what  was  once  known  as  McGowan's 
Pass  lies  in  the  North  Park.  Through  this  pass  the 
American  army  effected  its  retreat  from  New  York 
after  the  disastrous  battle  of  Long  Island.  Some  of 
the  old  earthworks  thrown  up  on  this  occasion  are  still 
to  be  seen  here. 

On  the  Fifth  avenue,  or  east  side  of  the  Park,  oppo- 
site 83d  street,  stands  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of 
Art,  one  of  the  greatest  attractions  of  the  city.  The 
■edifice,  now  completed,  which  is  only  one  of  a  projected 
series  of  buildings,  is  constructed  of  red  brick  with 
sandstone  trimmings,  in  the  Gothic  style,  and  is  218 
feet  long  and  95  feet  broad.  The  basement  story 
contains  the  offices  of  the  Museum  and  a  hall  devoted 
to  the  exhibition  of  works  of  industrial  art.  The  next 
floor  contains  the  main  hall,  a  noble  apartment,  the 
roof  of  which  rises  in  a  graceful  curve,  held  up  by 
sweeping  girders,  the  iron  work  being  painted  of  an 
approved  color.  All  the  decorations  of  the  building 
are  handsome,  but  are  subdued  in  tone,  in  order  to 
render  the  collections  more  attractive  than  the  rooms 
in  which  they  are  contained.  "In  the  west  entrance 
hall  on  this  floor,  which  fronts  the  Park,  are  the  modern  . 
statues.  In  the  central  hall  are  the  loan  collections, 
in  numerous  cases.    Here  are  laces  and  embroideries. 


THE  METROPOLITAN   MUSEUM  OF  ART.  461 

At  the  east  end  are  the  Greek  and  Etruscan  vases, 
ivith  Kensington  Museum  reproductions  at  the  west 
€nd.  Right  and  left  are  numerous  show  cases  con- 
taining the  innumerable  loans  made  to  the  Museum, 
such  as  Japanese  and  Chinese  ivories,  Egyptian  an- 
tiquities, rare  tomes,  old  books  in  their  superb  bindings, 
Limoges  enamels,  antique  arms,  with  Dresden,  Sevres, 
and  Majolica;  Oriental  and  Japanese  stuffs,  silver 
repoussee,  Venetian  glass,  miniatures,  and  an  endless 
variety  of  artistic  objects.  In  the  north  and  south 
aisles  of  the  east  hall  are  the  Cyprian  antiquities,  the 
vases,  terra-cottas,  bronzes,  busts,  and  statues  of  the 
Cesnola  collection.  In  this  hall  these  Cypriote  objects 
occupy  quite  three  sides  of  the  room,  besides  being 
placed  in  many  additional  cases.  The  most  careful 
attention  has  been  paid  to  their  classification,  which 
must  be  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  those  desiring  to 
study  them.  The  two  sarcophagi,  which  are  the 
capital  pieces  of  the  Cesnola  collection,  are  at  the  back 
of  the  hall.  On  the  left-hand  side,  facing  the  entrance, 
"has  been  carefully  placed  the  immense  Cesnola  collec- 
tion of  pottery.  Mounting  to  the  next  floor  is  easy,  as 
the  steps  have  a  comfortable  rise.  The  visitor  then 
arrives  at  the  upper  halls.  Here  are  the  pictures,  in 
two  halls,  the  east  and  west  ones.  Proceeding  along 
the  gallery  taken  up  by  the  Avery  collection  of  porce- 
lain, the  east  picture  gallery  is  reached.  Continuing 
the  circuit,  the  south  gallery  may  now  be  traversed, 
which  leads  to  the  west  hall.  This  south  gallery 
contains  the  most  precious  of  General  Di  Cesnola's 
discoveries,  the  Curium  treasures,  with  the  iridescent 
l^lass.    Here,  too,  are  all  the  bronzes,  Venetian  glass,  a  m 


462 


NEW  YORK. 


collection  of  watches,  and  bibelots  innumerable.  The 
Di  Cesnola  collection  consists  of  a  large  number  of 
ancient  art  objects  exhumed  at  Cyprus  by  General  Di 
Cesnola,  United  States  Consul  at  that  island,  and  is 
regarded  by  archaeologists  as  the  most  remarkable  and 
valuable  in  the  world.  The  eastern  picture  gallery 
contains  a  number  of  the  best  paintings  by  the  old 
Dutch,  Flemish  and  Spanish  masters;  the  western 
gallery  is  devoted  to  pictures  loaned  to  the  Museum. 
The  public  is  admitted  to  the  Museum,  free  of  charge^ 
on  Wednesdays,  Thursdays,  Fridays  and  Saturdays. 

A  short  distance  west  of  the  Museum  is  the  Obelisk^ 
or,  as  it  is  popularly,  but  erroneously  termed,  "Cleo- 
patra's Needle."  It  stands  on  a  slight  knoll  in  one  of  the 
most  commanding  situations  in  the  Park,  and  consti- 
tutes  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  grounds.  It 
was  presented  to  the  city  of  New  York  in  1877,  by 
Ismail  Pasha,  then  the  reigning  Khedive  of  Egypt,  and 
was  brought  across  the  Atlantic  in  1880,  through  the 
remarkable  engineering  skill  of  Lieutenant-Comman- 
der Gorringe,  of  the  United  States  Navy.  It  was  sucr 
cessfully  removed  from  the  vessel  in  which  it  made  the 
voyage,  conveyed  from  the  river,  and  set  up  on  its  presi- 
ent  site  in  the  autumn  of  1880.  The  cost  of  the  entire 
undertaking  was  paid  by  William  H.  Vanderbilt,  Esq: 

The  Obelisk  stands  upon  a  pedestal  of  massive 
granite,  built  upon  solid  rock.  It  is  a  monolith,  four 
sided  in  shape,  tapering  to  a  point  at  the  top,  is  sixty* 
seven  feet  two  inches  in  height,  five  and  a  half  feet 
square  at  the  apex,  and  weighs  about  two  hundred 
tons.  It  is  cut  from  a  single  block  of  granite  hewn  oiiX 
of  the  quarries  at  Syene,  in  Upper  Egypt,  and  its  four 


I  HF,  OHFLTSK. 


464 


NEW  YORK. 


sides  are  all  covered  with  inscriptions  in  hieroglyphics- 
cut  into  the  stone.  It  was  one  of  two  obelisks  erected 
in  front  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun,  at  Heliopolis  (or 
On,  as  it  is  termed  in  the  Bible),  a  city  of  Lower 
Egypt,  which  stood  not  far  from  the  present  city  of 
Cairo.  These  obelisks  were  erected  by  Thothmes  III, 
to  commemorate  his  victories.  This  king  was  one  of 
the  greatest  conquerors  in  Egyptian  history,  and  his 
dominions  extended  from  India  on  the  east  to  the  isles 
of  the  Mediterranean  on  the  north  and  west,  and  to 
the  southern  confines  of  Equatorial  Africa.  Three 
centuries  after  his  death,  another  great  king,  Rameses 
II  (believed  to  be  the  Greek  Sesostris),  caused  these 
obelisks  to  be  set  up  a  second  time  at  Heliopolis,  and 
a  new  line  of  inscriptions  full  of  his  own  more  pompous 
titles  and  names  was  added,  on  the  right  and  left  sides 
of  the  central  line,  all  along  the  four  sides  of  die  stone. 
Centuries  afterwards,  when  Rome  had  brought  Egypt 
to  her  feet,  these  obelisks  were  removed  from  Heliopo- 
lis to  Alexandria.  It  is  not  certain  by  whom  they  were 
removed ;  some  authors  attribute  the  work  to  Julius 
Caesar,  some  to  Marc  Antony,  and  others  still  t® 
Augustus.  The  companion  to  this  obelisk  was  pre- 
sented to  the  British  government  by  Ismail  Pasha,  and 
was  conveyed  to  London  in  1877,  and  set  up  on  the 
Thames  embankment. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Obelisk  is  the  object  of  so 
much  interest.  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  existing  monu- 
ments of  the  ancient  world,  and  carries  us  back  fifteen 
centuries  beyond  the  Christian  Era.  It  was  venerable 
when  Moses  enjoyed  the  favor  of  the  Egyptian  court, 
as  "  the  son  of  Pharaoh's  daughter,"  and  he  must  have 


THE  AMERICAN  MUSEUM  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY.  465 

seen  it  frequently.  It  witnessed  all  the  various  changes 
in  the  destiny  of  Egypt,  under  its  native  rulers  and 
foreign  masters,  for  three  thousand  years,  and  was 
already  fifteen  hundred  years  old  when  it  was  removed 
from  its  original  site  to  Alexandria.  What  changes  it 
shall  behold  in  its  new  home  in  the  metropolis  of  the 
Western  World  the  future  alone  can  disclose. 

Just  without  the  limits  of  the  Park,  and  between 
Eighth  and  Ninth  avenues  and  77th  and  8ist  streets, 
but  under  the  control  of  the  Park  Commission,  stands 
a  massive  and  handsome  building  of  red  brick,  with 
yellow  sandstone  trimmings,  erected  in  the  modern 
Gothic  style.  This  is  the  American  Museum  of  Natu- 
ral History,  the  present  edifice  being  only  a  single 
wing  of  the  immense  mass  of  buildings  which  is  to  be 
erected  for  the  uses  of  the  Museum.  The  building  is 
fireproof;  the  corner-stone  was  laid  on  the  2d  of  June, 
1874,  by  President  Grant,  and  the  Museum  was  form- 
ally opened  by  President  Hayes,  on  the  2 2d  of  Decem- 
ber, 1877.  "The  general  interior  arrangement  is 
probably  the  best  that  has  been  yet  devised  for  the 
purpose,  and,  indeed,  leaves  little  to  be  desired.  The 
collections  are  arranged  in  large  halls,  or  in  balconies 
running  around  them ;  and  at  each  end  of  these  halls 
is  a  large  vestibule,  containing  stairways  and  offices 
for  the  curator  of  the  department  to  which  the  floor  is 
devoted.  The  entrance  is  at  present  at  the  south  end„ 
Each  hall  is  1 70  feet  long  by  60  wide  inside  the  walls. 
The  lowest  story  is  18  feet  high;  the  second,  or  prin- 
cipal story,  including  the  balcony  or  gallery,  30  feet ; 
the  upper  story  22  feet;  and  the  story  in  the  mansard 
roof  16  feet.    On  the  lower  story,  the  desk  cases,  ia 

30 


466 


NEW  YORK. 


the  centre  of  the  hall,  are  filled  with  the  Jay  collection 
of  shells,  presented  by  Miss  C.  L.  Wolfe,  as  a  memo- 
rial of  her  father,  the  first  President  of  the  Museum. 
The  remainder  of  the  hall,  excepting  several  cases  filled 
with  building  stones,  marbles,  woods,  and  wax  fruits,  is 
devoted  to  mounted  specimens  of  mammalia.  The 
floor  of  the  second  story  hall  contains  specimens  of 
birds  exclusively,  arranged  in  geographical  order. 
The  gallery  is  set  apart  for  the  archaeological  depart- 
ment, and  contains  specimens  of  the  implements  of  the 
Pacific  islanders,  spears  and  lances  of  various  peoples, 
carved  war-clubs,  Indian  dresses  and  weapons,  stone 
axes,  pottery,  skulls,  skeletons,  etc.,  all  in  upright 
cases ;  in  the  railing  case  is  the  De  Morgan  collection 
of  stone  implements,  from  the  valley  of  the  Somme, 
Northern  France  ;  the  Bement  specimens  of  the  stone 
age  of  Denmark ;  specimens  from  the  Swiss  lake 
dwellings ;  Squier  and  Davis's  collection,  from  the 
Mississippi  Valley,  and  several  minor  collections.  On 
the  upper  or  third  floor  is  the  James  Hall  collection  o.( 
geologic  specimens  of  New  York  State,  recently  pur  • 
chased  by  the  Museum,  and  a  number  of  other  speci^ 
mens  in  the  same  department  of  science.  The  attic 
story  is  set  apart  for  work  and  study  rooms  for  those 
carrying  on  original  researches.  The  peculiarity  of  the 
arrangement  for  the  different  wall  cases  containing  the 
collections  is,  that  they  extend  out  at  right  angles  to 
the  windows,  so  that  the  end  against  the  wall  is  but  a 
small  part  of  the  whole,  while  the  light,  which,  owing 
to  the  large  window  space  gained  by  this  arrangement 
is  exceedingly  abundant,  is  permitted  to  travel  to  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  hall,  so  that  there  is  not  a  spot 


THE  TRANSVERSE  ROADS. 


467 


anywhere  in  the  exhibition  rooms  where  a  shadow  is 
cast."  The  pubHc  is  admitted  to  the  Museum  free  of 
charge  on*  Wednesdays,  Thursdays,  Fridays,  and 
Saturdays. 

One  of  the  problems  presented  to  the  engineers  who 
Jaid  out  the  Park  consisted  in  devising  a  means  of 
communication  between  Fifth  and  Eighth  avenues, 
along  its  course.  As  it  lay  in  the  centre  of  the  island 
for  two  miles  and  a  half  from  north  to  south,  it  would 
prove  a  serious  obstacle  to  the  transaction  of  the  busi- 
ness of  the  city  unless  some  means  of  communication 
.should  be  provided  between  the  above-rnentioned 
avenues.  To  carry  the  city  streets  through  the  grounds 
would  be  to  destroy  the  Park,  and  to  open  the  carriage 
roads  to  vehicles  of  trade  would  sadly  mar  the  pleasure 
of  visitors.  The  skill  of  the  engineers  and  the  natural 
formation  of  the  land  soon  afforded  a  solution  of  the 
problem,  difficult  as  it  seemed.  A  system  of  transverse 
roads  was  devised  and  successfully  carried  out.  These 
roads  are  among  the  "curiosities"  of  the  Park,  and 
constitute  one  of  the  most  skillful  engineering  triumphs 
of  the  time.  The  transverse  roads  are  four  in  number, 
and  are  used  to  carry  65th,  79th,  85th,  and  97th  streets 
across  the  line  of  the  Park.  They  follow  the  natural 
depressions  between  the  hills  and  rocks  of  the  Park, 
are  sunken  far  below  the  general  level  of  the  grounds, 
and  are  walled  up  on  each  side  with  massive  masonry. 
The  carriage  drives  and  walks  of  the  Park  cross  them 
by  means  of  handsome  bridges,  which  are  so  embowered 
in  vines  and  shrubbery  that  the  road  below  is  entirely 
unseen.  Visitors  pass  over  them  without  being  con- 
scious of  their  existence.    These  roads  are  inaccessible 


'468 


NEW  YORK. 


from  the  Park,  are  paved  like  the  city  streets,  and  are 
lighted  with  gas  at  night. 

The  Central  Park  is  under  the  control  of  the  De- 
partment of  Public  Parks,  which  has  its  headquarters 
at  36  Union  Square.  The  board  consists  of  four  com- 
missioners, appointed  for  five  years  by  the  Mayor  and 
Board  of  Aldermen.  The  President  of  the  Board 
receives  an  annual  salary  of  ^6500,  but  the  other 
members  are  not  paid  for  their  services.  The  Com- 
missioners draw  up  and  enforce  the  regulations  for 
the  government  of  the  Park,  and  appoint  the  police 
force  to  which  the  care  of  the  grounds  and  the  property 
in  them  is  entrusted.  The  Park  police  are  uniformed, 
in  gray,  and  have  the  powers  of  ordinary  policemen. 
Their  headquarters  are  at  the  Arsenal  building.  A 
policeman  is  on  duty  at  each  entrance,  and  others  of 
the  force  patrol  the  grounds,  to  prevent  violations  of 
the  rules,  to  render  assistance  to  persons  in  need  of  it 

The  rules  for  the  government  of  visitors  are  very 
simple.  They  are  forbidden  to  pluck  the  shrubbery  or 
flowers,  to  write  upon  or  otherwise  deface  the  seats, 
bridges,  arches,  or  buildings,  to  feed  the  birds,  or  an- 
noy the  animals,  and  to  walk  on  the  grass  except  in 
such  places  as  are  marked  by  signs  bearing  the  word 
"Common."  Every  convenience  is  provided  for  the 
comfort  of  visitors.  More  than  ten  thousand  seats  are 
scattered  through  the  grounds,  six  hundred  of  these 
being  under  vine-covered  arbors.  Water  closets  for 
gentlemen,  and  cottages  with  toilet  conveniences  for 
ladies  and  children,  each  of  the  latter  in  charge  of  a 
female  attendant,  are  placed  at  convenient  points. 


"OLD  TRINITY."  469 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TRINITY  CHURCH. 

^"CTLD  trinity'' — THE  THRBE  CHURCHES — DESCRIPTION  OF  TRINITY  CHURCH — THE  INTERIOR — 
THE  ALTAR  AND  REREDOS — THE  WINDOWS — THE  SERVICES — FINE  MUSIC — DAILY  SIGHTS  IW 
TRINITY — THE  SPIRE — THE  CHIMES — VIEW  FROM  THE  SPIRE — THE  CHURCHYARD — NOTXO 
TOMBS — TRINITY  PARISH — THE  CHAPELS — WEALTH  OF  THE  PARISH — ITS  NOBLE  WORK. 

The  most  interesting  church  edifice  in  New  York  is 
Trinity  Church,  or,  as  it  is  affectionately  termed  by  the 
citizens,  "  Old  Trinity."  It  stands  on  Broadway  oppo- 
site the  head  of  Wall  street,  and  forms  one  of  the  most 
conspicuous  objects  on  the  great  thoroughfare.  The 
present  edifice  is  the  third  that  has  stood  on  the  site. 
The  first  church  was  completed  in  1697,  and  was  de- 
stroyed in  the  great  fire  of  1776.  A  second  church 
was  built  in  1790,  and  in  1839  ^^is  was  demolished,  and 
the  present  stately  edifice  begun  on  its  site.  It  was 
completed  and  consecrated  in  1846. 

Trinity  is  one  of  the  few  specimens  of  pure  Gothic 
architecture  to  be  found  in  the  United  States,  and  is 
stately  and  beautiful  within  and  without.  It  is  built  of 
brownstone  from  the  base  to  the  summit  of  the  spire, 
and  the  interior  is  finished  in  the  same  material.  The 
walls  are  fifty  feet  high,  and  the  arch  of  the  ceiling  is 
sixty  feet  above  the  floor  of  the  church.  The  roof  is 
supported  by  massive  brownstone  columns.  The  spire 
is  two  hundred  and  eighty-four  feet  in  height,  and  is 
surmounted  by  a  bright  gilded  cross.  The  church  con- 
sists of  a  nave,  choir,  and  aisles.  On  each  side  of  the 
choir  are  the  vestry  rooms.    The  south  room  contains 


470  NEW  YORK. 

the  offices  of  the  clergy,  and  is  also  the  robing  room. 
The  north  room  contains  a  fine  tomb,  with  a  full  length 
effigy  in  stone,  to  the  memory  of  Bishop  Onderdonk. 
The  chancel  occupies  the  choir,  and  is  beautifully  fitted 
up.  At  the  sides  are  stalls  for  the  clergy  and  choris- 
ters, with  a  fine  organ  on  the  north  side,  and  at  the 
back  are  the  altar  and  reredos,  which  were  erected  as 
a  memorial  to  the  late  William  B.  Astor,  by  his  sons, 
both  of  whom  are  active  members  of  the  church.  They 
.  are  very  beautiful,  and  are  of  a  soft  colored  stone, 
richly  ornamented  with  sculptures.  The  windows  of 
the  church  are  of  stained  glass,  those  at  the  sides  being 
very  simple.  The  great  window  back  of  the  altar  is  a 
magnificent  work.  Over  the  Broadway  entrance  is  a 
gallery  containing  the  grand  organ,  one  of  the  most 
powerful  instruments  in  the  city. 

Trinity  is  noted  for  its  elaborate  services.  Morning 
and  evening  prayer  are  celebrated  in  simple  style 
every  day,  but  on  Sundays  and  feast  days  tlie  full 
choral  service  is  used.  The  choir  consists  of  men  and 
boys,  carefully  trained  by  the  Musical  Director;  they 
are  surpHced,  and  are  famous  for  their  skill.  No 
grander  or  more  impressive  service  can  be  heard  in 
the  land  than  in  Old  Trinity  on  Sunday  mornings.  The 
church  is  always  kept  open  during  the  day,  and  it  is  no 
uncommon  sight,  during  business  hours,  to  see  numbers 
of  persons  kneeling  in  the  pews  of  the  church  in  silent 
prayer.  A  soft,  subdued,  holy  light  streams  in  through 
the  colored  windows,  giving  to  the  beautiful  interior 
an  air  of  solemnity,  in  harmony  with  its  sacred  char- 
acter. 

The  spire  of  the  church  faces  Wall  street,  and  is 


TRINITY  CHURCa 


472  NEW  YORK. 

built  of  solid  stone.  It  contains  a  clock,  with  three 
faces,  placed  just  above  the  roof  of  the  church,  and  a 
great  bell,  which  strikes  the  quarters,  half-hours,  and 
•  hours.  Above  these  is  the  finest  chime  of  bells  in  the 
city.  They  are  played  by  machinery,  and  their  music 
is  well  worth  listening  to.  All  through  the  day  and 
night  the  voices  of  the  bells  float  down  into  the  city, 
solemn  and  sweet,  reminding  the  heedless  passers-by 
that  time  is  flying  and  eternity  drawing  nigh.  The 
view  from  the  balcony  at  the  base  of  the  spire,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  street,  is  sublime. 
The  gazer  looks  down  upon  Broadway  and  Wall 
street,  with  their  busy  crowds,  and  over  the  city  far 
away  to  the  northward.  From  this  elevated  point  you 
can  see  almost  the  entire  city,  Brooklyn,  Jersey  City, 
and  the  suburban  towns  on  the  Jersey  shore,  back  to 
die  Orange  Mountains;  the  harbor,  the  East  river,  the 
Narrows,  the  Lower  Bay,  Staten  Island,  Long  Island 
Sound,  and  the  distant  hills  of  Connecticut.  Nearly 
four  millions  of  people  are  below  you,  with  a  dozen 
cities  and  towns. 

The  church  stands  in  the  midst  of  a  large  open  • 
space,  filled  with  crumbling  tombstones  and  monu- 
ments, shaded  with  noble  trees  and  ornamented  widi 
flowers.  At  the  northern  end,  on  the  Broadway  side, 
facing  Pine  street,  is  "  The  Martyr's  Monument,"  a 
splendid  structure  of  bronmstone,  erected  to  die 
memory  of  the  Patriotic  Ainericans  who  died  during 
the  Revolution,  in  British  Prisons." 

Trinity  Church  is  the  "mother"  of  a  vast  corpora- 
tion, embracing  the  followln;^  chapels:  St.  Paul's,  St. 
John's,  Trinity  Chapel,  St.  Chrysostom's,  St.  Augus- 


A  WEALTHY  CHURCH. 


473 


tine's,  and  St.  Cornelius's,  the  last  being  on  Governor's 
Island.  All  these  establishments  are  supported  from 
the  funds  of  the  parish,  with  the  exception  of  Trinity 
Chapel,  which  has  a  wealthy  congregation,  and  is  main- 
tained by  its  members.  These  constitute  what  is  known 
as  ''Trinity  Parish,"  at  the  head  of  which  is  the  rector 
of  Trinity  Church.  Each  church  or  chapel  has  its 
pastor  and  vestry,  who  are  subject  to  the  control  of  thv) 
rector  and  vestry  of  Old  Trinity."  The  salaries  ar^ 
liberal,  and  are  promptly  paid.  Each  clergyman  with  a 
family  is  provided  with  a  furnished  house ;  should  any 
clergyman  die  in  the  service  of  the  parish,  a  liberal 
provision  is  made  for  his  family,  and  superannuated 
ministers  are  supported  in  comfort  during  their  lives. 

Trinity  is  the  richest  church  in  the  United  States. 
Its  wealth  consists  almost  entirely  of  real  estate.  In 
1697  the  English  crown  granted  to  it  the  land  on 
which  it  stands,  and  in  1 705  supplemented  this  grant 
with  the  gift  of  the  immense  tract  known  as  "Queen 
Anne's  Farm,"  embracing  the  entire  district  lying 
along  the  North  River,  from  Vesey  to  Christopher 
street.  Much  of  this  was  subsequently  donated  by 
Trinity  to  various  institutions  needing  assistance,  but 
the  corporation  still  owns  a  large  part  of  this  valuable 
district,  worth  at  present  many  millions  of  dollars. 
Much  of  this  property  is  unproductive,  however,  so  that 
the  actual  income  of  the  corporation  is  only  about  half 
a  million  of  dollars.  It  makes  a  good  use  of  this,  how- 
ever, and  besides  paying  its  own  expenses,  lends  a  lib- 
eral support  to  many  needy  churches  in  the  city,  and 
maintains  a  number  of  benevolent  institutions. 


474 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  LOST  SISTERHOOD. 

*KKVALBNCB   OP    PROSTITUTION    IN   NEW   YORK— POLICE   STATISTICS— FIRST-CLASS    HOOSB9- . 

THE    PROPRIETRESS  THE    INMATES  THE    ARISTOCRACY    OF    SHAME  —  THE  VISITORS-. 

VISITS  OF  MARRIED  MEN — AVERAGE  LIFE  OF  A  FASHIONABLE  PROSTITUTE — THE  NEXT 
STEP — THE    SECOND-CLASS    HOUSES — TERRORS   OF   THESE    PLACES — THE   GREENE  STREET 

BAGNIOS  GOING  DOWN  INTO  THE  DEPTHS — THE  NEXT  STEP — THE  WATER  STREET  HELLS 

— AVERAGE  LIFE  OF  A  PROSTITUTE — "  THE  WAGES  OF  SIN  IS  DEATH  " — HOW  YOUNG  GIRL3 
ARE  TEMPTED  INTO  SIN — EFFORTS  TO  SAVE  AN  ERRING  DAUGHTER — THE  STREET  WALK- 
ERS— THE  PANEL  HOUSES — HOW  MEN  ARE  ROBBED  AND  MURDERED  IN  THESE  HOUSES— 
THE  CONCERT  SALOONS — THE  WAITER  GIRLS — THE  DANCE  HALLS — THE  "  BUCKINGHAM 
THE  "CREMORNE" — BUCKINGHAM  BALLS — ASSIGNATION  HOUSES — PERSONALS— THE  MID- 
NIGHT MISSION  —  REFORMATORY  ESTABLISHMENTS  —  ABORTIONISTS — THE  WICKEDEST 
WOMAN  IN  NEW  YORK. 

Prostitution  is  an  appalling  evil  in  New  York.  One 
v:an  scarcely  look  in  any  direction  without  seeing  some 
evidence  of  it.  Street  walkers  parade  the  most  prom- 
inent thoroughfares,  dance  houses  and  low  concert 
halls  flaunt  their  gaudy  signs  in  public,  and  houses 
of  ill-fame  are  conducted  with  a  boldness  unequalled 
Jiny where  in  the  world.  The  evil  is  very  great,  but  it 
is  far  from  assuming  the  proportions  that  some  well- 
meaning,  but  misinformed,  persons  have  assigned  it. 
Some  years  ago  Bishop  Simpson,  of  the  Methodist 
Church,  made  the  starding  assertion,  at  a  public  meet- 
ing, that  the  prostitutes  of  New  York  were  as  numer- 
ous as  the  members  of  the  Methodist  Church  in  that 
city.  This  drew  from  the  Superintendent  of  Police  a 
statement,  in  which  he  showed  that  while  the  evil  was 
undeniably  very  great,  it  was  not  so  bad  as  the  Bishop 
had  reported  it.  The  truth  is  that  there  are  about  6ck> 
houses  of  prostitution  and  about  90  assignation  houses 


I 


PROFESSIONAL  PROSTITUTES.  475  * 

in  New  York.  The  number  of  women  known  lo  the 
poHce  as  professional  prostitutes  is  about  5000,  in 
which  estimate  are  included  several  hundred  waiter 
girls  in  the  concert  saloons.  The  Census  of  iSSo 
returned  the  female  population  of  New  York  as  615,- 
815.  This  would  give  one  professional  prostitute  for 
123  females  of  all  ages  in  the  entire  city.  These  fig- 
ures are  horrible  enough  to  contemplate,  but  they  are 
not  so  bad  as  the  statement  referred  to  above.  Of 
the  number  of  women  who  resort  to  prostitution  as  a 
means  of  obtaining  money,  or  from  other  motives,  and 
who  yet  manage  to  retain  positions  of  respectability 
in  society,  of  course  no  estimate  can  be  made.  They 
are,  unfortunately,  very  numerous,  and  are  said,  by  per- 
sons in  position  to  speak  with  some  degree  of  accu- 
racy, to  equal  the  professionals  in  numbers. 

These  things  are  sad  to  contemplate,  and  disagree-, 
able  to  write  about.  The  whole  subject  is  unsavory  i 
but  no  picture  of  New  York  would  be  complete  did  it 
not  include  an  account  of  this  terrible  feature  of  city 
life,  which  meets  the  visitor  at  almost  every  turn  ;  and 
it  is  believed  that  some  good  may  be  accomplished  by 
stripping  the  subject, of  all  its  romance,  and  presenting); 
it  to  the  reader  in  its  true  and  hideous  colors. 

The  professional  women  of  New  York  represent 
every  grade  of  their  wretched  life,  from  the  belle  ot 
the  fashionable  house  of  ill-fame  to  the  slowly  dying 
inmate  of  the  Water  street  brothel.  They  begin  their 
careers  with  the  hope  that  they  will  always  remain  in 
the  class  into  which  they  enter,  but  find,  when  it  is  too 
late,  that  they  must  go  steadily  down  into  the  depths^ 


476 


NEW  YORK. 


closing  their  lives  with  a  horrible  death  and  a  pauper'* 
grave. 

The  first-class  houses  of  New  York  are  conducted 
with  more  or  less  secrecy.  It  is  the  object  of  the  pro- 
prietress to  remain  unknown  to  the  police  as  long  as 
possible,  but  she  finds  at  last  that  this  is  impracticable. 
The  sharp-eyed  patrolmen  soon  discover  suspicious 
signs  about  the  house,  and  watch  it  until  their  suspicions 
are  verified,  when  the  establishment  is  recorded  at 
police  headquarters  as  a  house  of  ill-fame,  and  placed 
under  the  surveillance  of  the  police.  These  houses 
are  few  m  number,  the  entire  city  containing,  accord- 
ing to  police  reports,  not  more  than  fifty.  Large  rents 
are  paid  for  them,  and  they  are  generally  hired  fur- 
nished. They  are  located  in  some  quiet,  respectable 
portion  of  the  city,  and  outwardly  appear  to  be  simply 
private  dwellings.  It  often  happens  that  the  neighbors 
are  in  ignorance  of  the  true  character  of  the  house, 
long  after  it  is  well  known  to  the  police.  It  is  hinted 
that  even  Fifth  avenue  is  not  free  from  the  taint  The 
houses  are  magnificently  furnished,  and  every  attrac- 
tion is  held  out  to  lure  desirable  visitors  to  them.  The 
proprietress  is  a  woman  of  respectable  appearance, 
and  passes  as  a  married  woman,  some  man  generally 
living  with  her,  and  passing  as  her  husband.  This 
-enables  her,  in  case  of  trouble  with  the  authorities,  to 
show  a  legal  protector  and  insist  upon  her  claim  to  be 
a  married  woman. 

The  inmates  are  women  in  the  first  flush  of  their 
charms.  They  are  handsome,  well  dressed,  generally 
refined  in  manner,  and  conduct  themselves  with  out- 
ward propriety ;  rude  and  boisterous  conduct,  im- 


THE  ARISTOCRACY  OF  SHAME.  477 

proper  language,  and  indecent  behavior  are  forbidden 
in  the  parlors  of  the  house,  and  a  casual  visitor  pass- 
ing through  the  public  rooms  of  the  place  would  see 
nothing  out  of  the  usual  way. 

It  is  difficult  to  learn  the  causes  which  induce  these 
women  to  adopt  a  life  of  shame.  No  reliance  what- 
ever can  be  placed  upon  the  stories  they  tell  of  them- 
selves. It  cannot  be  doubted,  however,  that  they  are 
generally  of  respectable  origin,  and  some  of  them  are 
otherwise  fitted  to  adorn  the  best  circles  of  society. 
Some  are  young  women  who  have  been  led  astray  by 
men  who  have  failed  to  keep  their  promises  to  them, 
and  have  drifted  into  sin  to  hide  their  shame ;  others 
are  wives  who  have  left,  or  have  been  deserted  by, 
their  husbands ;  others  are  widows  who  have  been 
left  without  any  other  means  of  support ;  others  still 
have  deliberately  chosen  the  life  in  the  hope  of  escap- 
ing poverty,  or  to  gratify  their  love  of  money  and  dress ; 
and  others  again  appear  to  be  influenced  by  motives 
of  pure  licentiousness.  Whatever  the  cause  of  their 
iiidoption  of  such  a  life,  it  is  evident  that  they  have 
i^een  better  days.  They  are  still  fresh  and  attractive, 
and  for  a  while  pursue  their  gilded  career  of  sin  and 
!ihame,  hoping  that  they  may  be  fortunate  enough  to 
retain  their  places  in  the  aristocracy  of  vice.  The 
proprietress  will  have  no  others  than  attractive  women 
in  her  house ;  and  as  soon  as  the  inmates  begin  to 
show  signs  of  the  wretched  life  they  lead,  as  soon  as 
sickness  falls  upon  them,  or  they  lose  their  beauty  and 
freshness,  she  sends  them  away,  and  fills  their  places 
with  more  attractive  women.  She  has  no  difficulty  in 
4loing  this,  for  she  has  her  agents  on  the  watch  for 


478 


NEW  YORK. 


them  all  the  time,  and  unfortunately  new  women  AVft 
always  soliciting  admission  to  such  places.  Besides 
this,  the  proprietress  knows  that  her  patrons  soon 
grow  tired  of  seeing  the  same  women  in  her  estab- 
lishment. She  must  make  frequent  changes  to  satisfy 
them,  and  she  has  no  scruples  about  thrusting  a  woman 
out  of  her  doors  to  begin  the  descent  of  the  ladder  of 
shame.  Therefore,  about  one  or  two  years  is  the 
average  term  of  the  stay  of  a  woman  in  a  fashionable 
house.  A  few  manage  to  remain  longer,  but  the 
number  is  so  small  as  to  constitute  scarcely  an  excep- 
tion to  the  general  rule.  As  long  as  her  "boarders"^ 
remain  with  her,  the  proprietress  treats  them  fairly 
enough,  apart  from  the  fact  that  she  manages  to  get 
out  of  them  all  the  money  she  can.  The  women  earn 
large  amounts  of  money,  but  a  considerable  portion 
of  this  goes  for  board  and  other  expenses  in  the  house, 
and  their  extravagant  habits  and  tastes  exhaust  the 
rest.  They  save  nothing,  and  if  taken  sick  must  gx> 
to  the  Charity  Hospital  for  treatment.  Their  drean^ 
of  saving  money  lasts  but  a  short  time,  and  they  leave 
the  fashionable  houses  penniless. 

The  visitors  to  these  houses  are  men  of  means.  No 
one  without  a  full  pocket  could  afford  such  indulgence. 
Visitors  are  expected  to  spend  considerable  money  for 
wine,  which  is  always  furnished  by  the  proprietress  at 
the  most  exorbitant  prices,  and  at  a  profit  of  about  20a 
per  cent.  A  large  part  of  her  revenue  is  derived  front 
such  sales,  and  she  looks  sharply  after  this  branch  of  her 
business.  The  shamelessness  with  which  men  of  stand* 
ing  and  prominence,  many  of  whom  are  husbands  and 
fiathers  of  families,  resort  to  these  houses,  and  display 


VISITORS  TO  FIRST-CLASS  HOUSES.  479 


themselves  in  the  parlors  is  astounding.  Indeed,  the 
keeper  of  one  of  the  most  fashionable  houses  boasts 
that  married  men  are  her  principal  customers.  Some- 
times the  visitor  desires  that  his  visit  shall  not  be 
known.  For  such  persons  there  are  private  rooms, 
where  they  are  sure  of  seeing  no  one  but  the  propri- 
etress and  the  woman  for  whom  their  visit  is  intended. 
The  fashionable  houses  are  largely  patronized  by  stran- 
gers visiting  New  York ;  these,  thinking  themselves 
unknown  in  the  great  city,  care  little  for  privacy,  and 
boldly  show  themselves  in  the  general  parlors.  The 
proportion  of  married  and  middle-aged  men  among 
them  is  very  great.  You  will  find  among  them  law- 
yers, physicians,  judges  of  courts,  members^  of  Con- 
gress, and  even  ministers  of  the  gospel  from  all  parts 
of  the  country.  This  may  seem  a  startling  assertion, 
but  the  police  authorities  will  confirm  it.  If  the  secrets 
of  these  places  as  regards  their  visitors  could  be  made 
public,  there  would  be  a  terrible  trouble  in  many  happ}r 
families  throughout  the  land,  as  well  as  in  the  Metrop 
olis.  Men  who  at  home  are  models  of  propriet)* 
seem  to  lose  all  sense  of  restraint  when  they  come  tc< 
New  York.  These  same  gentlemen  would  be  mer 
ciless  towards  any  female  member  of  their  familief/ 
who  should  display  a  similar  laxity. 

To  return  to  the  women: — The  inmates  of  the  first- 
class  houses  rarely  remain  in  them  for  more  than  two 
years.  Their  shameful  and  dissipated  lives  render 
them  by  this  time  unfit  for  companionship  with  their 
aristocratic  associates.  The  proprietress  quickly  dc; 
tects  this,  and  remorselessly  orders  them  from  her 
house.   She  knows  the  fate  that  awaits  them;  but  her 


480 


NEW  YORK. 


only  care  !s  to  keep  her  house  full  of  fresh  and  attrac- 
tive women. 

Having  quitted  the  fashionable  house,  the  wretched 
woman  has  no  resource  but  to  enter  a  second-class 
house,  and  thus  go  down  one  grade  lower  in  vice.  The 
difference  between  this  place  and  the  house  she  has 
left  is  very  great.  The  proprietress  is  cruel  and  ex- 
acting, and  boldly  robs  her  boarders  whenever  occa- 
sion offers.  The  visitors  are  more  numerous,  but  are 
a  rougher  and  coarser  set  than  those  who  patronized 
her  in  the  first  stage  of  her  career.  Money  is  less 
plentiful,  her  life  is  harder  in  every  way,  and  she  seeks 
relief  from  the  reflections  that  will  crowd  upon  her  in 
drink,  and  perhaps  to  drunkenness  adds  the  vice  of 
opium  eating.  Her  health  breaks  fast.  What  was  left 
of  her  beauty  when  she  entered  the  house  soon  fades, 
and  in  two  or  three  years  she  becomes  unfit  to  remain 
even  in  a  second-class  house.  She  is  turned  into  the 
street  by  the  proprietress,  who  generally  robs  her  of 
her  money  and  jewelry,  and  sometimes  even  of  her 
clothing,  save  what  she  has  on  at  the  time.  The 
wretches  who  keep  these  houses  do  not  hesitate  to 
detain  a  woman's  trunk,  or  other  effects,  upon  some 
trumped-up  charge  of  arrears  of  debt,  when  they  have 
no  longer  any  use  for  her.  The  poor  creature  has  no 
redress,  and  is  obliged  to  submit  in  silence  to  any 
wrong  practised  upon  her. 

The  woman  whose  career  opened  so  brilliantly  is 
now  a  confirmed  prostitute  and  drunkard,  bloated, 
sickly,  and  perhaps  diseased.  She  is  without  hope» 
and  there  is,  nothing  left  to  her  but  to  sink  still  lower. 
Yet  it  is  only  four  or  five  years,  perhaps  less,  since 


THE  GREENE  STREET  BAGNIOS. 


481 


she  entered  the  fashionable  up-town  mansion,  beauti- 
ful and  attractive  in  all  the  freshness  of  her  charms, 
and  little  dreaming  of  the  fate  in  store  for  her.  She 
is  not  an  exception  to  the  rule,  however.  She  has  but 
followed  the  usual  road,  met  the  inevitable  doom  of 
her  class. 

From  the  second-class  house  the  lost  woman  passes 
into  one  of  the  bagnios  of  Greene,  Worster,  or  some  * 
similar  street.  Here  her  lot  is  infinitely  more  wretched. 
Her  companions  are  the  vilest  of  her  class,  and  the 
visitors  are  thieves,  roughs,  and  men  who  cannot  gain 
admittance  into  places  such  as  she  has  left.  She  finds 
herself  a  slave  to  the  keeper  of  the  house,  who  is  often 
a  burly  ruffian,  and  even  more  brutal  than  a  woman 
would  be  in  the  same  position.  She  is  robbed  of  her 
earnings,  is  beaten,  and  often  falls  into  the  hands  of 
the  police.  She  becomes  familiar  with  the  station- 
house,  the  Tombs,  and  Blackwell's  Island,  and  what- 
ever of  womanly  feeling  remained  to  her  is  crushed 
out  of  her.  She  is  a  brute  simply.  She  remains  in 
Greene  street  and  similar  places  a  year  or  two — hu- 
man nature  cannot  bear  up  longer  against  such  a  life 
— and  is  then  unfit  to  remain  even  there.  Would  you 
seek  her  after  this,  you  will  find  her  in  the  terrible 
dens,  sailors'  dance  houses,  and  living  hells  of  Water 
street,  or  some  kindred  locality.  She  is  a  mass  of 
disease,  utterly  vile  and  repulsive,  steadily  dying  from 
her  bodily  ailments,  and  the  effects  of  rum  and  gin. 
She  has  reached  the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  and  can  go 
no  lower.  She  knows  it,  and  in  a  sort  of  dumWy  des- 
perate way  is  glad  it  is  so.  Life  is  such  a  daily  torture 
to  her,  hope  has  so  entirely  left  her,  that  death  only 


482 


NEW  YORK. 


offers  her  any  relief.  She  is  really  a  living  corpse.  The 
end  soon  comes.  Some  die  from  the  effects  of  their 
terrible  lives,  and,  ah !  such  fearful  deaths ;  others  are 
killed  or  fatally  injured  in  the  drunken  brawls  which 
so  often  occur  in  this  locality;  and  others  still  seek  an 
end  of  their  miseries  in  the  dark  waters  of  the  East 
River. 

I  draw  no  exaggerated  picture  of  the  gradual  but 
inevitable  descent  of  a  fallen  woman  in  New  York. 
Every  detail  is  true  to  life.  Seven  years  is  the  aver- 
age life  of  an  abandoned  woman  in  the  great  city. 
She  may  begin  her  career  with  all  the  eclat  possible, 
she  may  queen  it  by  virtue  of  her  beauty  and  charms 
in  some  fashionable  house,  at  the  beginning,  and  may 
even  outlast  the  average  term  at  such  places ;  it  mat- 
ters not ;  her  doom  is  certain.  The  time  will  come 
when  she  must  leave  the  aristocracy  of  shame,  must 
take  the  second  step  in  her  terrible  career.  Seven 
years  for  the  majority  of  these  women,  and  then  death 
in  its  most  horrible  form.  Some  may,  and  do,  antici- 
pate the  end  of  it  by  suicide  ;  few  ever  escape  from  it. 
'*The  wages  of  sin  is  death."  Some  cherish  the  hope 
that  after  a  few  years  of  pleasure  they  will  reform  ; 
but,  alas,  they  find  it  impossible  to  do  so.  A  few,  a 
very  few,  do  escape  through  the  aid  extended  to  them 
by  the  Midnight  Mission,  but  they  are  so  few  that  they 
but  serve  to  emphasize  the  hopelessness  of  the  effort 
The  doom  of  the  fallen  woman  is  sure.  "The  wages 
of  sin  is  death."  Once  entered  upon  a  career  of 
shame,  the  whole  world  sets  its  face  against  her. 
Even  the  men  who  associated  with  her  in  her  palmy 
days  would  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  her  appeals  for  aid 


LURING  YOUNG  GIRLS  TO  RUIN. 


488 


after  she  has  gone  down  into  the  depths.  I  would  to 
God  that  the  women  who  are  about  to  enter  upon 
this  terrible  life  could  walk  through  the  purlieus  of 
Water  street  and  witness  the  sights  that  I  have  seen 
there.  I  w^ould  they  could  see  the  awful,  rum-bloated, 
disease-scarred,  despairing  faces  that  look  out  from 
the  bagnios  of  that  terrible  neighborhood,  and  then 
realize  that,  however  brilliant  the  opening  of  their  ca- 
reer may  be,  this  must  be  the  end  of  it.  It  is  idle  for 
them  to  hope  to  escape  the  terrible  doom  of  the  fallen 
woman.  '*The  wages  of  sin  is  death."  Would  any 
one  know  what  sort  of  a  death  ?  Let  her  come  to 
New  York  and  see. 

Many  of  the  women  of  the  town  never  pass  through 
the  various  gradations  of  vice  that  I  have  described. 
Many  never  see  the  inside  of  a  fashionable  house  of 
ill-fame,  but  begin  lower  down  the  scale,  as  inmates 
of  second-class  houses,  as  waiter  girls  in  concert  sa- 
loons, as  inmates  of  dance  houses,  or  as  street  walkers. 
These  meet  their  inevitable  doom  all  the  quicker,  but 
not  the  less  surely. 

The  city  is  full  of  people  whose  object  is  to  lead 
young  girls  into  lives  of  shame.  Some  of  these  are 
men,  but  the  majority  are  women.  They  watch  the 
hotels,  and  lure  respectable  girls  away  on  various  pre- 
texts. Every  inducement  is  held  out  to  working  girls 
and  women  to  adopt  the  vile  trade,  and  many  fall  will- 
ing victims.  Hundreds  of  these  women  are  from  New 
England.  They  come  to  the  city  seeking  work,  and 
are  sometimes  successful.  Often,  however,  they  can 
find  nothing  to  do,  and,  when  poverty  and  want  stare 
them  in  the  face,  they  listen  to  the  voice  of  the 


484 


NEW  YORK. 


tempter,  become  street  walkers,  waiters  in  concert 
halls,  or  inmates  of  houses  of  ill-fame.  Sometimes, 
while  they  are  in  the  first  days  of  their  success,  they 
will  write  home  that  they  are  pursuing  honest  callings 
in  the  city,  and  earning  reputable  livings,  and  will 
even  send  money  home  to  their  deluded  parents. 
After  a  while  the  letters  cease — the  writers  have 
gone  down  into  the  depths;  they  are  lost.  Said  one 
whose  duties  often  brought  him  in  contact  with  women 
of  this  class :  "  It  is  strange  to  see  how  these  women 
cherish  the  memory  of  their  homes  even  in  the  midst 
of  their  shame.  They  will  speak  of  the  pleasant  home, 
of  the  old  father  or  mother,  in  accents  full  of  despair. 
Often  these  memories  will  cause  them  to  burst  into 
uncontrollable  weeping.  If  I  try  to  take  advantage  of 
this  moment  of  tenderness,  and  urge  them  to  make 
an  effort  to  reform,  I  am  met  with  but  one  answer, — 
'  It  is  too  late.*  "  The  keepers  of  the  bagnios  of  the 
city  use  every  means  to  lure  young  women  into  their 
power.  Not  long  since  a  girl,  who  had  managed  to 
escape  from  a  Greene  street  brothel,  told  the  follow- 
ing story  to  the  magistrate  at  the  Jefferson  Market 
Police  Court.  It  reveals  the  system  practised  in  such 
places.  "  I  watched  the  advertisements  in  the  papers 
to  see  something  that  would  suit  me.  I  learned  that 
a  Mrs.  Myers,  of  Greene  street,  wanted  two  young 
girls  to  do  light  chamber  work,  and  I  hastened  there, 
with  a  friend,  in  quest  of  a  job.  We  were  received 
by  Mrs.  Myers,  who  sat  down  and  began  to  explain 
to  us  the  nature  of  the  duties  we  were  expected  to 
perform.  It  was  an  awful  proposition,  your  Honor. 
She  kept  a  house  of  ill- fame.    We  fled.    I  was  very 


A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE. 


485 


much  discouraged.  Not  so  my  friend,  who  told  me 
there  was  another  lady  down  the  street,  who  was 
really  in  want  of  girls  to  help  her.  We  went  to  her 
house.  It  was  another  of  the  same  sort ;  but  after  I 
got  in  there  my  own  clothes  were  taken  away  from 
me,  and  the  lady  furnished  me  with  some  sort  of  silk, 
trimmed  with  fur,  and  tried  to  make  me  behave  and 
act  like  the  other  girls  in  her  establishment.  I 
remained  there  from  Saturday  to  Wednesday  night, 
because  I  could  not  get  away.  I  had  no  clothes  to 
wear  in  the  streets,  even  if  I  should  succeed  in  reach- 
ing them,  which  was  impossible,  and  the  woman  who 
kept  the  house  was  angry  with  me,  and  treated  me 
brutally  because  I  would  not  comply  with  her  wishes. 
I  and  another  young  girl  tried  to  escape  by  climbing 
over  the  fence  of  the  back  yard.  The  other  girl  got 
away,  but  I  was  discovered  by  the  barkeeper,  who 
drove  me  back  into  the  house,  with  curses.  On 
Wednesday  evening  I  was  made  to  sit  at  the  window, 
and  call  a  man,  who  was  passing,  into  the  house.  He 
^urned  out  to  be  a  detective,  and  arrested  me,  and 
brought  me  here." 

The  girl's  story  proving  to  be  true,  the  magistrate 
restored  her  to  her  friends,  and  caused  the  arrest  of 
the  keeper  of  the  house. 

The  police  are  often  called  upon  by  the  relatives  of 
abandoned  women  to  assist  them  in  finding  them,  and 
rescuing  them  from  their  lives  of  shame.  Sometimes, 
in  the  cases  ct  very  young  girls,  these  efforts  are  suc- 
cessful, and  the  poor  creature  gladly  goes  with  her 
friends.  Others  again  refuse  to  leave  their  wretched 
haunts ;  they  prefer  to  lead  their  lives  of  infamy. 


486 


NEW  YORK. 


One  night  a  young  man  called  at  the  "  Buckingham 
Palace,"  a  dance-house,  in  West  Twenty-seventh  street, 
and  inquired  for  his  sister  Dora,  whom,  he  had  learned, 
was  in  that  place.  The  young  lady  came  out,  while 
he  was  speaking,  in  company  with  a  well-dressed  man. 
Instead  of  complying  with  her  brother's  entreaties, 
she  entered  a  carriage,  with  her  escort,  and  drove  to 
the  Thirtieth  street  Police  Station  to  seek  release  from 
her  brother's  importunities.  The  brother  followed, 
told  to  the  sergeant  the  story  of  his  sister's  shame, 
and  asked  him  to  keep  her  there  until  he  could  sum 
mon  their  father.  The  sergeant  complied  with  this 
request,  and  the  father  soon  arrived.  He  was  a  re- 
spectable master  carpenter.  He  confirmed  his  son's 
statement,  and  appealed  to  his  daughter  to  go  home 
with  him.  She  answered  him  flippantly,  and  the  indig- 
nant father  cursed  her  for  her  sin,  and  would  have 
attacked  the  man  with  her  had  not  the  officers  pre- 
vented him.  The  woman  was  locked  up  for  the  night 
in  the  station  house,  and  brought  before  the  Jefferson 
Market  Police  Court  the  next  morning.  The  father 
urged  that  she  should  be  sent  to  some  reformatory 
establishment,  but  the  woman  met  him  with  the  state- 
ment that  she  was  twenty-three  years  old,  beyond 
legal  control,  and  therefore  entitled  to  choose  her  own 
mode  of  life.  Her  plea  was  valid,  and  the  magistrate 
was  unwillingly  compelled  to  discharge  her  from  cus- 
tody, though  he  endeavored  to  persuade  her  to  re- 
turn to  her  family.  She  then  left  the  court  room,  was 
joined  by  several  flashily  dressed  women,  and  depart* 
cd  in  high  spirits,  completely  ignoring  her  relatives. 

One  of  the  worst  classes  of  abandoned  women  con- 


THE  STREET  WALKERS. 


487 


sists  of  the  street  walkers.  On  Broadway,  Sixth  ave- 
nue, and  the  Bowery  these  women  are  very  numerous. 
They  are  generally  well  dressed,  and  as  a  rule  are 
young.  They  pursue  certain  regular  routes,  rarely 
pausing  unless  they  "  pick  up  "  a  companion,  when 
they  dart  off  with  him  into  a  side  street.  On  Broad- 
way the  police  do  not  allow  them  to  stop  and  accost 
men,  but  they  manage  to  do  so.  The  neighborhoods 
of  the  hotels  and  the  places  of  amusement  are  their 
principal  "cruising  grounds,"  and  their  victims  are 
mainly  strangers  to  the  city.  Many  of  them  have 
some  regular  employment  during  the  day,  and  ply 
their  wretched  trade  at  night  to  increase  their  gains 
They  accompany  their  victims  to  the  "bed-houses," 
which  are  conveniently  at  hand,  and  if  an  opportunity 
occurs  will  rob  him.  They  frequent  the  dance  halls 
and  concert  saloons,  in  fact,  every  place  to  which  they 
can  obtain  admission,  and  leave  no  means  untried  to 
lure  men  into  their  company.  As  a  rule,  they  are 
vicious  in  the  extreme,  they  drink  heavily,  and  are 
fearfully  diseased. 

Many  of  the  street  walkers  are  in  the  regular  em- 
ploy of  the  "panel  houses,"  which  abound  in  the  city. 
These  houses  are  kept  by  men,  who  are  among  the 
most  desperate  roughs  in  New  York.  The  woman  is 
either  the  mistress  of  one  of  these  men,  or  in  his  pay. 
The  method  pursued  is  as  follows: — The  street  walker 
secures  her  victim  on  the  street,  or  at  some  concert 
hall  or  dance  house.  He  is  generally  a  stranger,  and 
ignorant  of  the  localities  of  the  city.  She  takes  him 
to  her  room,  which  is  an  apartment  provided  with  a 
partition  in  which  there  is  a  sliding  door  or  panel. 


488.  NEW  YORK. 

The  confederate  of  the  woman  is  concealed  behind 
this  partition,  and,  at  a  favorable  moment,  slides  back 
the  panel,  enters  the  room,  and  rifles  the  clothing  of 
the  victim  of  the  money  and  valuables  contained  in  it. 
If  discovered,  the  panel  thief  endeavors  to  disable  the 
victim.  The  latter  is  no  match  for  his  assailant,  and  is 
from  the  first  at  a  disadvantage.  The  thief  is  desper- 
ate, and  is  generally  armed.  He  does  not  hesitate  at 
anything,  and,  if  necessary,  will  murder  the  victim,  the 
woman  assisting  him  in  the  fearful  work.  Then  the 
body  is  left  until  near  morning,  when  it  is  placed  in  a 
wagon  engaged  by  the  thief,  carried  to  the  river,  and 
thrown  into  the  water.  Generally  the  robbery  is  ac- 
complished without  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  vio- 
lence. The  victim  either  puts  up  with  his  loss  in 
silence,  or  reports  it  to  the  police.  The  records  at 
Police  Headquarters  contain  reports  of  numerous  rob- 
beries of  this  kind.  Yet  the  evil  goes  on.  Strangers 
in  the  city  incur  a  terrible  risk  in  accompanying  street 
walkers  and  women  whom  they  meet  at  concert  and 
dance  halls  to  their  homes.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
robbery  is  certain.  Murder  is  too  often  the  result  of 
such  an  adventure.  Truly,  Solomon  was  wise  indeed, 
when  he  wrote : — "  He  hath  taken  a  bag  of  money 
with  him. . .  With  her  much  fair  speech  she  caused  him 
to  yield,  with  the  flattering  of  her  lips  she  forced  him. . . 
He  goeth  after  her  straightway,  as  an  ox  goeth  to  the 
slaughter,  or  as  a  fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks ; 
till  a  dart  strike  through  his  liver;  as  a  bird  hasteth  to 
the  snare,  and  knoweth  not  it  is  for  his  life.  . .  Her 
house  is  the  way  to  hell,  going  down  to  the  chambers 
of  death." 


THE  CONCERT  SALOONS. 


489 


The  concert  saloons  are  amone  the  worst  features 
of  the  social  evil.  They  flourish  along  certain  parts 
of  Broadway,  Sixth  avenue,  and  the  Bowery,  and  are 
simply  so  many  places  where  the  devil's  work  is  done. 
They  provide  a  low  order  of  music,  and  the  service  of 
the  place  is  rendered  by  young  w^omen,  many  of  whom 
are  dressed  in  tights  and  all  sorts  of  fantastic  costumes, 
the  chief  object  of  which  is  to  display  the  figure  as 
much  as  possible.  The  liquors  furnished  are  of  the 
vilest  description.  The  girls  are  hideous  and  unat- 
tractive, and  are  foul-mouthed  and  bloated.  The  vis- 
itors are  principally  young  men,  and  even  boys,  though 
older  men,  and  even  gray  heads,  are  sometimes  seen 
among  them.  The  women  are  prostitutes  of  the  low- 
est order.  They  encourage  the  visitors  to  drink, 
shamelessly  violate  every  rule  of  propriety,  and  are 
always  in  readiness  to  rob  a  visitor  who  is  too  far 
gone  in  liquor  to  protect  himself.  These  places  are 
frequented  by  ruffians,  whose  only  object  is  robber}^ 
They  keep  a  watch  over  the  visitors ;  and  when  one 
of  the  latter,  overcome  with  liquor,  staggers  out  of 
the  place,  follow  him,  lure  him  into  a  back  street,  rob 
him,  and,  if  necessary  to  their  own  safety,  murder  him. 
Oftentimes  they  lure  their  helpless  victims  to  the  river 
front,  and  there  rob  and  kill  him,  and  throw  his  body 
into  the  water,  where  it  is  found  by  the  harbor  police. 

The  dance  halls  are  often  handsome  places,  but  all 
are  simply  the  rendezvous  of  street  walkers,  and  men 
who  come  to  seek  their  company.  The  principal  es- 
tablishments of  this  kind  are  the  Buckingham  Palace, 
the  Cremorne  Garden,  and  the  Haymarket.  At  the 
Cremorne  all  are  admitted  free,  but  at  the  others  an 


490 


NEW  YORK. 


admission  fee  is  charged  for  men.  The  "  Buckingham 
is  the  handsomest  dance  house  in  the  city.  We  enter 
through  a  lobby  into  a  bar-room,  back  of  which  lies 
the  dance  hall.  This  is  a  gaudily  decorated  apart- 
ment, two  stories  in  height,  with  a  gallery  running 
around  it  on  a  level  with  the  second  story.  Tables 
and  chairs  are  scattered  about  the  sides  of  the  first 
floor,  but  the  central  space  is  kept  clear  for  dancing. 
The  galleries  are  also  provided  with  tables  and  chairs. 
At  the  back  is  a  dimly- lighted  space,  fitted  up  like  a 
garden,  where  those  who  desire  it  may  sit  and  drink, 
and  at  the  side  are  a  shooting-gallery  and  a  restaurant. 
'The  place  is  always  well  filled.  The  women  present 
are  the  inmates  of  the  neighboring  houses  of  ill-fame 
and  street  walkers.  Each  one  is  a  prostitute,  and  each 
is  intent  upon  luring  some  man  into  her  clutches.  The 
men  are  mostly  very  young,  but  on  "  gala  nights," 
and  during  the  "  balls  "  which  are  given  here  in  the 
winter,  almost  every  class  of  society  is  represented  by 
the  male  visitors.  An  orchestra  in  the  gallery  oppo- 
site the  entrance  provides  the  music,  and  dancing  is 
constantly  going  on  on  the  floor  of  this  hall.  Men 
and  women  are  constantly  passing  in  and  out ;  drink- 
ing is  going  on  in  every  part  of  the  hall ;  and  the  air 
is  heavy  with  tobacco  smoke.  In  spite  of  its  brilliancy 
and  splendor,  the  place  is  but  one  of  the  numerous 
gateways  to  hell  with  which  New  York  abounds.  Men 
meet  abandoned  women  here,  and  accompany  them  to 
their  homes,  risking  disease,  robbery,  and  even  death, 
with  a  recklessness  that  is  appalling.  Young  men  of 
respectable  families  come  here  nightly,  and  spend 
hours  in  company  with  the  abandoned  women  who 


492 


NEW  YORK. 


frequent  the  place.  These  same  young  gentlemen 
would  shrink  with  a  fastidious  horror  from  even  a  few 
moments'  conversation  with  the  cooks  and  housemaids 
of  their  own  homes.  Yet  here  they  find  pleasure  in  asso- 
ciation with  women  equally  as  ignorant  and  unrefined, 
and  in  every  way  unworthy  to  compare  with  "  Biddy,'* 
who  is  honest  and  virtuous,  whatever  her  other  faults 
may  be. 

The  lowest  dance  houses  are  situated  on  the  river 
fronts  and  in  the  adjoining  streets,  and  are  largely  fre- 
quented by  sailors.  The  women  at  these  places  are 
generally  residents  of  the  house,  whose  sleeping  rooms 
are  above  the  dance  hall.  They  are  in  the  last  stages 
of  prostitution,  and  are  fearful  to  behold. 

A  great  deal  of  immorality  is  carried  on  in  the  city 
of  which  the  police  cannot  take  cognizance,  and  of 
which  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  statistics.  This  grade 
of  vice  is  confined  largely  to  persons  of  nominal 
respectability.  The  columns  of  certain  city  journals 
contain  numerous  personals  by  which  appointments 
are  made,  and  communications  exchanged  between 
persons  engaged  in  intrigues.  These  people  support 
the  numerous  assignation  houses  which  abound  in  the 
city.  About  ninety  of  these  houses,  of  all  grades,  are 
known  to  the  police,  but  there  are  others  which  are 
conducted  so  privately  that  the  police  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  them.  It  is  said  that  some  of  the  most  fash- 
ionable are  owned  and  furnished  by  men  of  nominal 
respectability.  They  put  a  woman  in  charge  of  the 
house,  and  share  the  large  receipts  with  her. 

Great  efforts  are  made  by  benevolent  people  to 
lessen  the  amount  of  vice  with  whicli  the  Metropolis 


THE  MIDNIGHT  MISSION.  493 

is  cursed.  The  Midnight  Mission,  in  Greene  street, 
is  the  most  successful  of  the  various  means  that  have 
been  adopted  to  rescue  fallen  women  from  their 
wretched  lives.  It  is  open  to  every  fallen  woman  who 
will  seek  refuge  in  it,  and  its  invitations  are  scattered 
among  this  class  by  its  agents.  The  women  are  treated 
with  kindness,  and  encouraged  to  reform.  They  come 
voluntarily,  and  leave  when  they  wish  to  do  so.  They 
are  always  welcomed;  however  often  they  may  wander 
back  into  sin,  the  Mission  never  closes  its  doors  upon 
them.  "Until  seventy  times  seven,"  is  its  rule.  In  a 
single  year,  as  many  as  282  women  sought  refuge  in 
the  Mission.  Of  this  number,  73  were  found  good 
situations  where  they  could  earn  an  honest  living,  and 
26  were  restored  to  their  relatives  and  friends.  Year 
after  year  the  Mission  continues  its  good  work,  res- 
cuing a  few  from  sin  and  shame.  The  other  reforma- 
tory institutions  are,  "The  House  of  the  Good  Shep- 
herd," the  "  House  of  Mercy,"  and  the  "  New  York 
Magdalen  and  Benevolent  Society."  They  are^  all 
correctional  establishments,  and  more  or  less  force  is 
employed  in  the  treatment  of  those  who  are  refractory. 
The  majority  of  their  inmates  are  sent  to  them  by  the 
police  courts. 

One  of  the  greatest  evils  of  the  city  is  the  existence 
of  a  class  of  men  and  women  who  make  their  living 
by  practising  abortion  upon  women  who  have  been 
betrayed,  and  seek  to  remove  the  consequences  of 
their  sin.  These  abortionists  are  well  known  to  the 
police,  who  spare  no  effort  to  break  up  the  infamous 
business.  They  continue  to  flourish,  however,  in  spite 
of  the  exertions  of  the  authorities.    They  advertise 


494 


NEW  YORK. 


boldly  in  such  city  journals  as  will  admit  their  adver- 
tisements, and  reap  large  profits  from  the  sale  of  drugs 
and  the  performance  of  operations  upon  pregnant 
women.  Their  calling  is  illegal,  and  the  statute  book 
denounces  grave  penalties  against  them.  To  bring 
on  premature  confinement,  which  shall  result  in  the 
death  of  a  child,  is  made  by  the  law  of  New  York 
manslaughter  in  the  second  degree.  In  spite  of  this, 
however,  infanticide  flourishes  in  New  York,  and  every 
year  the  city  journals  contain  numerous  accounts  of 
the  death  of  women  at  the  hands  of  professional  abor- 
tionists. They  are  arrested  and  punished  whenever 
a  clear  case  can  be  made  out  against  them  ;  but  others 
spring  up  to  take  their  places,  and  the  infamous  busi- 
n^ess  continues  to  thrive.  Some  of  the  more  cautious 
practitioners  will  not  undertake  a  premature  delivery 
of  a  woman,  but  content  themselves  with  receiving 
her,  and  carrying  her  safely  through  her  confinement. 
They  require  that  she  shall  be  "backed"  by  some 
responsible  man.  The  child,  when  born,  is  sent  to 
some  foundling  asylum,  or  given  to  persons  willing  to 
adopt  it.  Often  the  practitioner  places  it  in  the  hands 
of  some  person  to  care  for  it,  and,  where  the  parents 
are  of  good  position  in  society,  and  possessed  of  wealth, 
holds  it  as  a  means  of  extorting  money  from  them. 
Large  sums  are  wrung  from  the  parents  in  this  way,  in 
order  to  avoid  an  exposure,  and  men  and  women  have 
been  driven  to  despair  and  suicide  by  the  wretches 
in  whose  power  they  have  placed  themselves. 

One  of  the  most  notorious  women  of  this  class  was 

the  late  Madame  R  .    A  large  part  of  her  income 

was  derived  from  the  sale  of  drugs  warranted  to  bring 


THE  WICKEDEST  WOMAN  IN  NEW  YORK.  495 


on  miscarriages.  She  amassed  a  large  fortune  by  her 
business,  built  a  magnificent  house  on  Fifth  avenue, 
and  lived  in  royal  style.  She  would  never  commit  an 
abortion  outright,  but  would  safely  deliver  her  patients, 
take  care  of  the  children  born  in  her  house,  and  use 
them  as  the  means  of  extorting  money  from  the  parents. 
Her  patients  were  invariably  women  of  position  in  so- 
ciety, in  the  city  and  other  parts  of  the  country,  and 
.she  would  receive  no  one  into  her  house  unless 
"backed"  by  a  man  of  known  wealth.  At  length  her 
wicked  ways  threw  her  into  the  hands  of  the  police. 
The  evidence  against  her  was  overwhelming,  and,  to 
escape  the  just  punishment  of  her  crimes,  the  wretched 
•woman  committed  suicide. 


496 


NEW  YORK. 


1 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

JAY  GOULD. 

KARLir  UFE  OF  THE  GREAT  PINANCIBR — PERSONAL  APPEARANCE — KNOWLBDGB  OP  LAW — 
ENTERS  THE  ERIE  ROAD— BLACK  FRIDAY — HOW  GOULD  CAME  OUT  OF  IT — A  SHREWD 
GAME  IN  "ERIK  "—HIS  WEALTH — ATTACKED  IN  WALL  STREET— HIS  METHOD  OF  OPER- 
ATING. 

Thefe  is  not  a  village  or  town  in  the  United  States 
in  which  the  name  of  Jay  Gould  is  not  as  familiar  as  a 
household  word.  He  is  a  native  of  New  York  State, 
and  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  fifty  years  of  age.  He 
is  a  small,  puny  man,  scarcely  larger  than  a  boy  of 
sixteen,  with  black  beard  and  hair,  black  eyes,  and  a 
timid,  shrinking  manner.  He  is  secretive  in  every- 
thing, and  has  the  rare  gift  of  keeping  his  own  coun- 
sel under  all  circumstances.  He  is  well  educated,  and 
is  the  most  daring  and  resolute  financier  in  the  United 
States.  It  is  said  that  his  knowledge  of  law  is  won- 
derful for  an  amateur,  and  that  he  can  draw  the  most 
difficult  legal  paper  with  the  ease  and  skill  of  an  old 
practitioner.  He  has  few  friends,  and  is  suspicious  of 
all  his  associates,  who  return  his  distrust  with  equal 
heartiness. 

Mr.  Gould  began  his  business  life  in  his  native  State, 
after  which  he  engaged  in  an  unsuccessful  venture  in 
Pennsylvania.  He  then  went  to  Vermont,  where  he 
ivas  made  Superintendent  of  the  Rutland  Railroad, 
which  he  soon  placed  upon  a  paying  basis.  Its  heaviest 
stockholder  was  a  Mr.  Miller,  whose  daughter  Mr. 
Gould  married  in  1861.    Mr.  Miller  was  also  largely 


JAY  GOULD. 


497 


interested  in  the  Erie  Railroad,  and  through  his  influ- 
ence Mr.  Gould,  some  years  afterwards,  was  elected 
its  President.  His  career  in  this  capacity,  and  his  con- 
nection with  the  late  James  Fisk,  Jr.,  are  too  well  known 
to  make  it  necessary  to  relate  them  here. 

He  is  credited,  together  with  Fisk,  with  having 
brought  about  the  famous  "Black  Friday"  corner  in 
the  gold  market,  and  it  is  asserted  in  Wall  street  that 


JAY  GOULD. 


when  the  bubble  burs  ted,  he  escaped  loss  by  quietly 
selling  out  his  millions  of  gold  to  his  partner,  Fisk,  and 
consigning  that  individual  to  almost  ruin.  When  he 
was  driven  out  of  the  Erie  Railroad,  the  public  was 
astonished  by  the  announcement  that  he  had  been 
compelled  to  make  restitution  to  the  Erie  Company 
of  $6,000,000  worth  of  property.  \Vith  characteristic 
shrewdness  he  managed  to  make  even  this  humiliation 


498 


NEW  YORK. 


a  matter  of  gain.  The  transaction  was  necessarily 
kept  secret  until  it  was  concluded ;  but  meanwhile 
Gould,  knowing  that  the  road's  enrichment  to  so  large 
an  amount  would  send  the  stock  up,  bought  all  there 
was  in  the  market.  When  the  news  of  the  restitution 
was  made  public,  Erie  stock  rose  rapidly,  and  Gould 
sold  all  he  had  at  an  enormous  profit.  He  is  said  to 
have  cleared  $6,000,000  on  the  transaction. 

Mr.  Gould's  wealth  is  very  great,  and  is  estimated 
anywhere  from  $10,000,000  to  $50,000,000,  but  no  one 
knows  the  true  amount.  His  railroad  interests  are 
tremendous,  and  he  is  practically  the  owner  of  the 
telegraph  system  of  the  United  States.  He  resides 
in  a  handsome  mansion  on  Fifth  avenue. 

He  is  cordially  hated  by  Wall  street  operators, 
many  of  whom  have  suffered  severely  from  his  re- 
morseless combinations.  In  such  matters  he  spares 
neither  friend  nor  foe.  A  few  years  ago  a  party  of 
Wall  street  men  seized  him  near  the  Stock  Exchange, 
and  after  handling  him  very  roughly,  threw  him  into 
a  neighboring  area.  He  saved  himself  from  further 
harm  by  instant  flight. 

Mr.  Gould  rarely  fails  in  his  undertakings,  and  con- 
ducts them  in  a  characteristic  manner.  They  say  in 
Wall  street,  that  when  he  appears  freely  and  frequendy 
in  the  street,  the  brokers  feel  safe;  but  when  he  is 
missing  for  a  day  or  two,  Wall  street  begins  to  trem- 
ble and  looks  out  for  squalls.  When  he  is  about  to 
put  some  great  scheme  in  operation,  he  retires  to  his 
Fifth  avenue  house,  and  remains  there  until  it  is  over, 
communicating  all  the  while  with  his  agents  in  the 
market  by  telegraph. 


THE  FIRST  DIVISION.  499 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  NATIONAL  GUARD. 

THE  FIRST  DIVISION— ITS  ORGANIZATION— HOW  ARMED — APPROPRIATIONS  BV  THE  CITY— 
FRIVATE  EXPENSES — THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF  —  EFFICIENCY  OF  THE  TROOPS — PAST 
SERVICES  OF  THE  FORCE— OVERAWING  THE   MOB— PUTTING   DOWN  RIOTS — A  REINfORCK- 

MENT  TO  THE  POLICE — DISCIPLINE — THE  ARMORIES— THE  SEVENTH  REGIMENT  ARMORV  

PARADES. 

The  military  organizations  of  the  City  of  New  York 
constitute  the  First  Division  of  the  National  Guard  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  and  are  justly  regarded  with 


SIXTY-NINTH   REGIMENT  ARMORY. 


pride  by  the  citizens  of  the  Metropolis.  The  division 
numbers  about  6,500  men,  and  consists  of  four  bri- 
gades, which  are  divided  into  nine  regiments  of  in- 


I 


500 


NEW  YORK. 


fantry.  In  addition  to  these  are  one  regiment  and 
a  troop  of  cavalry,  and  four  batteries  of  artillery.  The 
arms  of  the  force,  ammunition,  and  some  other  neces- 
sities, are  provided  by  the  United  States.  The  regi- 
ments select  their  own  uniform  and  equipments,  and 
these  are  purchased  by  the  members  at  their  own  ex- 
pense. The  city  makes  an  appropriation  of  $500  a 
year  for  each  regiment ;  but  other  expenses,  such  as 
the  cost  of  parades,  the  hire  of  bands,  and  the  fitting- 
up  of  armories  are  borne  by  the  regiments. 

The  entire  force  is  under  the  command  of  a  Major- 
General,  whose  headquarters  are  at  155  Mercer  street. 
The  division  is  always  at  the  orders  of  the  Governor 
of  the  State,  who  is  ex-officio  Commander-in-chief  of 
the  National  Guard  of  New  York,  and  may  be  called 
kito  active  service  at  his  discretion. 

The  men  are  well-drilled,  and  constitute  an  efficient 
force,  which  can  be  relied  upon  in  time  of  need.  The 
majority  of  them  are  veteran  soldiers,  and  saw  service 
during  the  late  Civil  War.  They  have  repeatedly  proved 
their  efficiency  in  the  riots  which  they  have  been  called 
upon  to  quell.  They  have  promptly  and  bravely  re- 
sponded to  every  call  upon  them,  preventing  a  terrible 
and  disastrous  riot  when  the  banks  suspended  specie 
payments  in  1837  ;  putting  down  the  Astor  Place  riot 
in  1849  i  preventing  a  serious  riot  at  the  time  of  the 
organization  of  the  Metropolitan  Police  force ;  rescu- 
ing the  city  from  the  mob  in  the  Draft  riots  in  1863  ; 
checking  the  Orange  riots  in  1871 ;  and  overawing 
the  mob  in  the  Railroad  riots  in  1877.  The  men  are 
not  holiday  soldiers  in  any  sense, but  are  trained  troops; 
ready  at  any  moment  to  play  their  part  in  the  preser- 


REGIMENTAL  ARMORIES.  501 

vation  of  order  in  the  Metropolis.  They  constitute  a 
strong  and  effective  reinforcement  to  the  police,  and 
the  rougher  element  of  the  city  know  that  they  are  no 
match  for  such  a  force  as  this,  as  they  have  learned 
from  experience  that  the  troops  will  fire  when  the 
word  is  given.  The  police,  on  their  part,  are  en- 
couraged by  the  knowledge  that  behind  them  stand 
the  National  Guard  ready  to  support  them  when  the 
task  of  preserving  order  is  too  great  for  them.  The 
citizens  appreciate  this,  and  contribute  liberally  to  the 
support  of  the  miHtary. 

The  discipline  is  very  rigid.  The  men  are  not  vol- 
unteers, but  are  regularly  enlisted  in  the  service  of  the 
State,  and  are  liable  to  severe  punishment  for  any  in- 
fraction of  discipline.  Delinquent  members,  sentenced 
by  court-martial  to  imprisonment,  are  confined  in  Lud- 
low street  jail. 

Each  regiment  has  an  armory,  in  which  are  kept  its 
arms  and  valuable  property.  The  armory  is  in  charge 
of  an  armorer,  who  takes  care  of  the  arms,  and  keeps 
them  in  good  order.  A  drill  room  constitutes  the 
principal  hall  of  the  armory,  and  in  some  of  these 
buildings  reading  rooms,  a  library,  committee,  and 
company  rooms  are  provided.  The  regiments  take  a 
pride  in  decorating  and  furnishing  their  armories  as 
handsomely  as  their  means  will  permit.  The  Sixty- 
ninth  Regiment  armory  and  the  armory  of  the  Sev- 
enth Regiment  are  the  handsomest  in  the  city.  The 
latter  building  is  a  notable  structure,  and  occupies  an 
entire  block,  bounded  by  Fourth  and  Lexington  ave- 
nues and  Sixty-sixth  and  Sixty-seventh  streets.  It  is 
built  of  brick,  with  granite  trimmings,  and  has  the 


502 


NEW  YORK. 


Strength  of  a  fortress  and  the  elegance  and  comfort 
of  a  club-house.  It  cost  over  ^300,000,  and  the  inte- 
rior was  decorated  and  furnished  at  the  expense  of  the 
regiment.  The  regimental  drill  room  is  300  by  200 
feet  in  size,  and  besides  this  there  are  ten  company 
drill  rooms,  an  officers'  room,  a  veterans'  room,  a  field 
and  staff  room,  a  gymnasium,  and  six  squad  drill 
rooms. 


SEVENTH  REGIMENT  ARMORY. 


The  parades  of  the  division  are  among  the  sights 
of  the  city,  and  draw  great  crowds  to  witness  them. 
The  martial  bearing  of  the  troops,  their  splendid  uni- 
forms and  equipments,  and  the  perfect  discipline  which 
marks  every  movement,  elicit  hearty  applause  from  the 
citizens  who  line  the  entire  route  of  the  march. 


THE  RICHEST  UXS    IN  NEW  YORK. 


503 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

WILLIAM   H.  VANDERBILT. 

im«  RICHEST  MAN  IN  NEW  YORK— EARLY  LIFE — BECOMES  A  FARMER — ENTERS  THE  RAILROAB 
WORLD — BECOMES  VICE-PRESIDENT  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  CENTRAL  SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS  TH« 
OLD  COMMODORE — THE  VANDERBILT  PALACES — LOVE  OF  FAST  HORSES. 

The  richest  man  in  New  York  is  William  H.  Van- 
derbilt,  Esq.  He  is  the  oldest  son  of  the  late  Com- 
modore Vanderbilt,  and  was  born  at  New  Brunswick, 


New  Jersey,  on  the  8th  of  May,  1821.  He  obtained 
his  early  education  at  the  Columbia  College  Grammar 
School,  and  at  the  age  of  eighteen  began  his  business 
career  as  a  clerk  in  the  banking  house  of  Drew,  Rob- 


504 


NEW  YORK. 


inson  &  Co.,  of  Wall  street.  Here  he  remained  two 
years,  and  gave  such  marked  evidences  of  business 
capacity,  that  his  employers  began  to  contemplate 
taking  him  into  partnership  when  he  should  have 
reached  his  majority.  His  health  gave  way,  however, 
before  this  plan  could  be  carried  out,  and  he  left  Wall 
street,  and  took  a  farm  on  Stateh  Island.  Devoting 
himself  to  his  new  pursuit  with  characteristic  vigor,  he 
brought  the  farm  up  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  and 
made  it  pay  handsomely.  He  then  undertook  the 
receivership  of  the  badly  crippled  Staten  Island  Rail- 
road, and  soon  brought  that  out  of  its  difficulties,  and 
became  its  president.  In  1864  he  became  vice-pres- 
ident of  the  Harlem  Railroad,  and  soon  after  of  the 
Hudson  River  Railroad.  Upon  the  consolidation  of 
the  Hudson  River  and  New  York  Central  Railroads 
in  1869,  he  was  made  vice-president  and  execuiive 
officer  of  the  organization.  Since  then  his  career  has 
been  a  part  of  the  railway  history  of  the  country. 
During  the  life  of  his  father,  "  Billy,"  as  the  old  Com- 
modore affectionately  called  him,  was  his  confidant  and 
executive  officer,  and  through  him  the  far-reaching 
plans  of  the  "railroad  king"  were  carried  into  suc- 
cessful execution.  The  united  efforts  of  father  and 
son  more  than  trebled  the  value  of  the  great  railway 
lines  in  their  hands,  and  little  by  little  the  ownership 
of  the  vast  combination  passed  into  their  possession. 
*' Billy"  displayed  the  highest  executive  ability,  and 
from  the  first  took  his  place  among  the  great  railway 
managers  of  the  country.  At  the  death  of  Commo- 
dore Vanderbilt,  he  succeeded  his  father  in  the  presi- 
dency of  the  various  roads  under  his  control,  and  is 


THE  VANDERBILT  MANSIONS. 


505 


now  vice-president  of  a  number  of  other  roads  in  the 
West  and  South.  He  also  became,  by  his  father's 
will,  the  heir  to  the  great  bulk  of  the  vast  estate  left 
by  the  Commodore.  He  is  said  to  have  more  ready 
money  than  any  man  in  America,  and  his  railroads 
are  a  source  of  enormous  income  to  him. 

Mr.  Vanderbilt  was  married  in  1841  to  Miss  Kissam, 
of  New  York,  and  has  a  large  family.  He  resides  in 
an  elegant  mansion  in  Fifth  avenue,  and  is  now  erect- 
ing two  of  the  finest  dwelling  houses  in  the  city,  on 
Fifth  avenue,  between  Fifty-first  and  Fifty-second 
streets.  Mr.  Vanderbilt  will  reside  at  the  corner  of 
Fifty-first  street,  and  the  adjoining  house  is  for  his 
married  daughters.  Two  of  his  sons,  Cornelius  and 
William  K.  Vanderbilt,  are  also  erecting  splendid 
mansions  higher  up  the  avenue. 

Mr.  Vanderbilt  is  still  devoted  to  his  farm,  and  takes 
pride  in  regarding  himself  as  a  practical  farmer.  He 
has  inherited  his  father's  love  for  fast  horses,  and  pos- 
sesses some  of  the  best  trotters  in  the  country.  He 
is  a  good  driver  and  is  constantly  on  the  road  in  fine 
weather. 


506 


NEW  YORK, 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

CRIME  IN  NEW  YORK. 

■PROFESSIONAL  CRIMINALS— THEIR  NUMBERS— THE  THIEVES— SUPERINTENDENT  WALLING's  D*. 
SCRIPTION  OF  THEM — THE  THIEF  LANGUAGE — GRADES  OF  THIEVES — BURGLARS — BANK  ROB- 
BERS—SNEAK   THIEVES— CONFIDENCE    MEN— HOW    THEY    OPERATE — THE  PICKPOCKETS  

WHERE  THEY  COME  FROM — THE  ROGUES*  GALLERY — THE  RIVER  THIEVES — DARING  CRIMBB 
— THE  FENCES — HOW  STOLEN  GOODS  ARE  DISPOSED  OF — TRICKS  OF  THE  FENCES — THE 
ROUGHS— BLACKMAILERS — HOW  THEY  FLEECE  THEIR  VICTIMS. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  men  and  women  of  certain 
grades  of  intellect  and  temperament  deliberately  de- 
vote themselves  to  lives  of  crime.  These  constitute 
the  professional  criminals,"  who  make  up  such  a  ter- 
rible class  in  the  population  of  every  great  city.  Ip 
New  York  this  class  is  undoubtedly  large,  but  not  so 
large  as  many  people  assert.  That  it  is  active  and 
dangerous,  the  police  records  of  the  city  afford  ample 
testimony.  It  is  very  hard  to  obtain  any  reliable  sta- 
tistics respecting  the  professional  votaries  of  crime, 
but  it  would  seem,  after  careful  investigation,  that  New 
York  contains  about  3000  of  them.  These  consist 
of  thieves,  burglars,  river  thieves,  fences,  and  pick- 
pockets. In  addition  to  these  we  may  include  under 
the  head  of  pi-ofessional  criminals,  the  following : — 
Women  of  ill-fame,  about  5000  ;  keepers  of  gambling 
houses,  and  of  policy  and  lottery  offices,  about  600, 
making  in  all  nearly  9000  professional  law-breakers, 
or  about  one  professional  criminal  in  every  136  in- 
habitants in  a  population  of  a  million  and  a  quarter. 
This  is  a  startling  statement ;  but  unhappily  it  is  true. 


PROFESSIONAL  CRIMINALS. 


507 


The  population  of  New  York  is  more  cosmopolitan 
than  that  of  any  city  in  the  Union,  and  the  majority 
of  the  people  are  poor.  The  struggle  for  existence 
is  a  hard  one,  and  offers  every  inducement  to  crime. 
The  political  system,  which  is  based  upon  plunder, 
presents  the  spectacle  of  well  known  offenders  going 
unpunished  by  justice  ;  and  is  therefore  so  much  en- 
<:ouragement  to  the  ignorant  and  degraded  to  enter 
upon  lives  of  dishonesty.  -  The  professionals  are  not 
all  ignorant  men  or  women,  however.  Among  them 
may  be  found  many  whose  abilities,  if  properly  di- 
rected, would  win  for  them  positions  of  honor  and 
usefulness.  There  seems  to  be  a  fascination  in  crime 
to  these  people,  and  they  deliberately  enter  upon  it. 

The  principal  form  which  crime  assumes  in  the  Me- 
tropolis is  robbery.  The  professionals  do  not  deliber- 
ately engage  in  murder  or  the  graver  crimes ;  though 
they  do  not  hesitate  to  commit  them  if  necessary  to 
their  success  or  safety.  They  prefer  to  pursue  their 
vocation  without  taking  life  ;  and  murder,  arson,  rape, 
and  capital  crimes  are,  therefore,  not  more  common, 
in  proportion  to  the  population,  in  the  Metropolis  than 
in  other  cities.  Robbery,  however,  is  a  science  here, 
and  it  is  of  it  in  its  various  forms  that  this  chapter  will 
treat. 

The  professional  criminals  of  New  York  constitute 
a  distinct  community ;  they  are  known  to  each  other, 
and  seldom  make  any  effort  to  associate  with  people 
of  respectability.  They  infest  certain  sections  of  the 
city  where  they  can  easily  and  rapidly  communicate 
with  each  other,  and  can  hide  in  safety  from  the  police. 


508 


NEW  YORK. 


Some  time  ago,  Police  Superintendent  Walling  thu» 
described  the  thieves  of  New  York : — 
.  "  New  York  thieves  are  of  two  sorts — those  who 
steal  only  when  they  are  tempted  by  want,  or  when  an 
unusual  opportunity  for  successful  thieving  is  thrown 
in  their  way,  and  those  who  make  a  regular  business 
of  stealing.  A  professional  thief  ranks  among  his  fel- 
lows according  to  his  ability.  Many  professional 
thieves  are  burglars.  They  drink  to  excess,  and  com- 
mit so  many  blunders  that  they  are  easily  detected  by 
the  police.  They  gamble  a  great  deal.  When  suc- 
cessful they  quarrel  over  their  booty,  and  often  betray 
each  other.  A  smart  thief  seldom  drinks,  and  never 
allows  himself  to  get  under  the  influence  of  liquor. 
He  takes  care  to  keep  himself  in  the  best  physical 
trim  ;  and  is  always  ready  for  a  long  run  when  pur- 
sued, or  a  desperate  struggle  when  cornered.  He 
must  always  have  his  wits  about  him.  A  thief  of  this 
class  makes  a  successful  bank  robber,  forger,  or  con- 
fidence swindler.  Professional  thieves  seldom  have 
any  home.  Many  of  them  find  temporary  shelter  in 
a  dull  season  in  houses  of  ill-repute.  They  associate 
with,  and  are  often  married  to,  disreputable  women^ 
many  of  whom  are  also  thieves.  The  smartest  thieves 
do  not  have  homes,  for  the  reason  that  they  dare  not 
remain  long  in  one  place  for  fear  of  arrest.  During 
the  summer  New  York  thieves  are  to  be  found  at  all 
the  watering-places  and  seaside  resorts.  Later  in  the 
season  they  attend  the  country  fairs  and  agricultural 
shows,  and  come  back  to  the  city  at  the  beginning  of 
the  winter.    They  are  fond  of  political  meetings  ia 


f 


THE  THIEF  LANGUAGE. 


509 


Jersey  City  and  other  places  near  New  York,  but  do 
not  appear  at  meetings  in  this  city." 

Being  asked  whether  there  were  any  places  in  the 
city  where  thieves  were  educated  to  their  business, 
Mr.  Walling  replied: — "No;  it  would  be  impossible 
for  such  places  to  exist  without  being  discovered 
Thieves  educate  themselves,  or  get  their  knowledge 
by  associating  with  other  thieves  more  experienced 
than  themselves.  Those  people  who  believe  in  the 
existence  of  schools  where  boys  are  taught  the  art  of 
picking  pockets,  have  got  their  belief  from  works  of 
fiction  like  Dickens's  'Oliver  Twist.'  The  bucket  shops 
and  brothels  of  the  city  where  thieves  congregate, 
are  the  only  places  which  can  be  called  schools  of 
crime." 

For  purposes  of  communicating  with  each  other, 
the  professional  thieves  have  a  language,  or  argot, 
which  is  also  common  to  their  brethren  in  England. 
It  is  generally  known  as  "  Patter,"  and  is  said  to  be 
of  Gypsey  origin.  A  few  phrases,  taken  at  random 
from  it,  will  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  it :  Abraham^ 
to  sham,  to  pretend  sickness ;  Autumn  cove,  a  married 
man ;  Autumn  cackler,  a  married  woman ;  Bag  of 
nails,  everything  in  confusion ;  Ballum  rancum,  a  ball 
where  all  the  damsels  are  thieves  and  prostitutes'; 
Barbary  coast,  Water  street ;  Bill  of  sale,  a  widow's 
weeds ;  Booked,  arrested ;  Bingo  mort,  a  drunken 
woman  ;  Brown  stone,  beer ;  Cain  and  Abel,  a  table ; 
Cap-your-lucky,  to  run  away ;  City  College,  the  Tombs; 
Consolation,  assassination ;  Doxie,  a  girl ;  Drawing, 
pocket  picking ;  Duria,  file ;  Family  man,  a  receiver 
of  stolen  goods  ;  Free,  to  steal ;  Gilt,  a  crowbar ;  Gilt- 


510 


NEW  YORK. 


(lubber,  a  hotel  thief ;  Madge,  private  places ;  Ned,  a 
ten  dollar  gold  piece  ;  Olive,  the  moon  ;  Plate  of  meat, 
2l  street  of  a  city ;  Poncess,  a  woman  who  supports  a 
man  by  her  prostitution  ;  Star  the  glaze,  break  the 
glass. 

Experienced  thieves  are  thoroughly  familiar  with 
this  language,  and  can  speak  to  each  other  intelligi- 
bly, while  a  bystander  is  in  total  ignorance  of  their 
meaning. 

The  professional  thieves  are  divided  into  various 
classes,  the  members  of  which  confine  themselves 
strictly  to  their  particular  line  of  work.  They  are 
classed  by  the  police,  and  by  themselves,  as  follows  r 
Burglars,  Bank  Sneaks,  Damper  Sneaks,  Safe  Blow- 
ers, Safe  Bursters,  Sneak  Thieves,  Confidence  Men,, 
and  Pickpockets.  A  burglar  will  rarely  attempt  the 
part  of  a  sneak  thief,  and  a  pickpocket  will  seldom- 
undertake  a  burglary. 

The  burglar  stands  at  the  head  of  the  professional 
class,  and  is  looked  up  to  by  its  members  with  admi- 
ration and  respect.  He  disdains  the  title  of  "  thief," 
and  boasts  that  his  operations  require  brains,  and 
nerve  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  The  safe  blowers 
and  safe  bursters  are  also  classed  by  the  police  as 
burglars,  and  are  acknowledged  by  the  craft  as  confed- 
erates. They  number  about  325  known  professionals. 
The  banks  and  the  large  business  houses  are  their 
"game."  They  disdain  smaller  operations.  When  a 
plan  to  rob  a  bank  has  been  formed,  the  burglar  proper 
calls  the  safe  burster,  and  sometimes  the  safe  blower^ 
to  his  aid.  One  man  often  prepares. the  way  by  open- 
ing a  small  account  with  the  bank,  and  drawing  out 


HOW  BANKS  ARE  ROBBED. 


511 


his  deposits  in  small  amounts.  He  visits  the  place  at 
different  hours  of  the  day,  learns  the  habits  of  the 
bank  officers  and  clerks,  and  makes  careful  observa- 
tions of  the  building  and  the  safes  in  which  the  money 
is  kept.  Frequently  a  room  in  the  basement  of  the 
bank  building,  or  in  an  adjoining  building,  is  hired 
and  occupied  by  a  confederate.  When  all  is  ready,  a 
hole  is  cut  through  the  floor  into  the  bank  room,  or,  in 
rare  cases,  an  opening  is  made  through  the  walls  from 
an  adjoining  building.  Once  in  the  bank  room,  the 
services  of  the  safe  blower  or  burster  are  called  into 
action.  The  former  takes  charge  of  the  operation 
when  the  safe  is  to  be  blown  open  by  gunpowder. 
He  drills  holes  in  the  door  of  the  safe  by  the  lock, 
and  fills  them  with  charges  of  gunpowder,  which  are 
ignited  by  a  fuse.  The  safe  is  carefully  wrapped  in 
blankets  to  smother  the  noise  of  the  explosion,  and 
the  windows  of  the  room  are  lowered  about  an  inch 
from  the  top,  to  prevent  the  breaking  of  the  glass  by 
the  concussion  of  the  air.  The  explosion  destroys 
the  lock,  but  makes  litde  noise,  and  the  door  of  the 
safe  is  easily  opened.  Where  it  is  desirable  not  to 
resort  to  an  explosion,  the  safe  burster  makes  the 
safe  fast  to  the  floor  by  strong  iron  clamps,  in  order 
that  it  may  bear  the  desired  amount  of  pressure.  He 
then  drills  holes  in  the  door,  into  which  he  fits  jack- 
screws,  worked  by  levers.  These  screws  exert  a  tre- 
mendous force,  and  soon  burst  the  safe  open.  Some- 
times, when  small  safes  are  to  be  forced  open,  they 
use  only  a  jimmy  and  a  hammer,  wrapping  the  ham- 
mer with  cloth  to  deaden  the  sound  of  the  blows. 
The  safe  once  opened,  the  contents  are  at  the  mercy 


512  NEW  YORK. 

of  the  burglars.  These  never  attack  a  safe  without 
having  some  idea  of  the  booty  to  be  secured,  and  the 
amount  of  risk  to  be  run.  Saturday  night  is  gener- 
ally chosen  for  such  operations.  If  the  work  cannot 
be  finished  in  time  to  allow  the  burglars  to  escape 
before  sunrise  on  Sunday,  they  continue  it  until  suc- 
cessful, and  boldly  carry  off  their  plunder  in  broad 
daylight.  Where  it  can  be  done,  the  burglars  prefer 
to  enter  the  bank  by  means  of  false  keys.  Onje  of 
them  will  frequent  the  bank  and  secure  wax  impres- 
sions of  the  necessary  keys,  and  from  these  false  keys 
are  manufactured.  Private  houses  are  often  robbed 
by  means  of  such  keys. 

The  bank  sneak  is  simply  a  bond  robber.  He  con- 
fines his  operations  to  stealing  United  States  and  other 
bonds,  preferring  coupon  to  registered  bonds,  as  they 
can  be  more  easily  disposed  of.  He  frequents  a  bank 
for  a  long  period,  and  patiently  observes  the  places 
where  the  bonds  and  securities  are  kept.  This  he 
manages  to  do  without  suspicion,  and  when  all  is 
ripe  for  the  robbery,  he  boldly  enters  the  bank,  makes 
his  way  unobserved  to  the  safe,  snatches  a  package 
of  bonds,  adding  to  it  a  bundle  of  notes,  if  possible, 
and  escapes.  If  the  plunder  consists  of  coupon  bonds, 
it  is  easily  disposed  of ;  but  registered  bonds  require 
more  careful  handling.  Generally,  when  the  bank 
offers  a  reward  for  their  recovery,  the  thief  enters 
into  communication  with  the  detective  appointed  to 
work  up  the  case,  and  compromises  with  the  bank  by 
restoring  a  part  of  the  plunder  on  condition  that  he  is 
allowed  to  keep  the  rest  and  escape  punishment. 

The  damper  sneak  is  also  a  bond  robber,  but  con- 


SNEAK  THIEVES. 


513 


fines  his  depredations  to  brokers'  offices.  Wall  street 
is  his  field  of  operations,  and  has  suffered  heavily  from 
him.  He  enters  a  broker's  office,  under  pretext  of 
waiting  for  a  friend  who  has  business  with  the  house, 
or  some  similar  plea,  and  watches  his  opportunity  to 
get  at  the  safe,  which  is  generally  left  open  during  bus- 
iness hours.  Seizing  a  favorable  moment,  he  passes 
behind  the  counter  unobserved,  snatches  whatever  he 
can  lay  his  hands  on,  and  leaves  the  office.  In  the 
majority  of  instances  he  gets  away  with  his  plunder. 
He  trusts  everything  to  chance,  and  steals  anything 
he  can  carry  off. 

The  sneak  thieves  are  the  lowest  in  the  list  of  pro- 
fessional robbers.  They  confine  their  operations  prin- 
cipally to  private  dwellings  and  retail  stores.  They 
are  in  constant  danger  of  detection  and  arrest,  and 
are  more  often  secured  by  the  police  than  the  other 
classes  we  have  mentioned.  The  dinner  hour,  which 
in  winter  is  after  dark,  is  their  favorite  time  for  enter- 
ing houses.  They  gain  admittance  by  open  doors  or 
windows,  or  by  false  keys,  and  take  anything  within 
their  reach.  A  favorite  practice  of  sneak  thieves  is  to 
call  at  houses  advertised  for  rent,  and  ask  to  be  shown 
the  rooms.  Another  plan  is  to  visit  the  offices  of  phy- 
sicians and  other  professional  men,  and  to  steal  arti- 
cles of  value  in  the  waiting-rooms  while  they  are  left 
alone.  The  majority  of  those  who  steal  from  stores 
are  women,  who  take  articles  from  the  counters  while 
the  clerks  are  busily  engaged  in  laying  out  goods  for 
their  inspection.  The  practice  of  shoplifting  has  be- 
come so  common,  that  many  of  the  leading  stores 
keep  special  detectives  to  watch  the  customers. 

33 


534 


NEW  YORK. 


Confidence  men  make  use  of  the  credulity  of  country 
people  and  strangers  in  the  city.  A  favorite  plan  is 
to  watch  the  registers  of  the  hotels,  and  get  the  names 
and  addresses  of  the  guests.  The  method  is  as  fol- 
lows : — Mr.  Smith  comes  to  New  York,  puts  up  at 
some  prominent  hotel,  and  after  dinner  saunters  out 
for  a  stroll.  A  confidence  man,  who  has  been  on  the 
watch  for  his  appearance,  meets  him  some  blocks 
away  from  the  hotel,  and,  rushing  up  to  him,  seizes  his 
hand,  and  exclaims  delightedly,  "  Why,  Mr.  Smith, 
how  glad  I  am  to  see  you.  When  did  you  arrive  ? 
How  did  you  leave  them  all  in  Smithville?"  Mr. 
Smith  is  taken  by  surprise  at  being  recognized  in  the 
great  city,  and  if  he  is  at  all  credulous,  the  confidence 
man  has  no  trouble  in  making  him  believe  that  they 
have  met  before.  The  swindler  joins  him  in  his 
stroll,  after  a  few  moments  of  conversation  confides 
to  him  that  he  has  drawn  a  large  prize  in  a  lottery, 
and  invites  him  to  accompany  him  to  the  lottery  office, 
and  see  him  receive  the  money.  On  the  way  they 
visit  a  saloon  and  enjoy  a  friendly  drink  together.  An- 
other stranger  now  drops  in,  and  is  introduced  to  Mr. 
Smith  by  the  swindler.  The  new  comer  draws  the 
swindler  aside  and  exchanges  a  few  words  with  him, 
whereupon  the  latter  tells  Smith  that  he  owes  the 
stranger  a  small  sum  of  money,  and  has  unfortunately 
left  his  pocket-book  at  his  office.  He  asks  his  unsus- 
pecting victim  to  lend  him  the  amount  until  they  reach 
the  lottery  office,  when  he  will  return  it.  Smith  pro- 
duces the  money,  which  is  handed  to  the  new  comer, 
who  then  takes  his  departure,  and, the  friends  resume 
their  stroll  toward  the  lottery  office.    On  the  way  the 


PICKPOCKETS  AND  THEIR  WAYS. 


515 


swindler  manages  to  elude  his  victim,  who  seeks  him 
in  vain,  and  goes  back  to  his  hotel  a  sadder  and  a 
wiser  man.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  is  one  of  the 
most  successful  tricks  played  in  the  city.  It  is  often 
varied,  but  is  never  attempted  upon  a  resident  of  the 
Metropolis. 

The  pickpockets  of  New  York  are  very  numerous. 
The  term  pickpocket  is  regarded  by  the  police  as  in- 
cluding not  only  those  who  confine  their  efforts  to 
picking  pockets  and  stealing  satchels,  travelling  bags, 
and  valises,  but  also  gradations  of  crime  which  ap- 
proach the  higher  degrees  of  larceny  from  the  person, 
and  highway  robbery.  The  members  of  this  class  of 
the  thieving  fraternity  are  well  known  to  the  police, 
and  the  detectives  are  kept  busy  watching  them.  Their 
likenesses  are  contained  in  the  "  Rogues'  Gallery  "  at 
police  headquarters,  and  the  authorities  know  the 
thieves  well,  as  their  careers  embrace  in  every  instance 
a  long  record  of  crime.  Instances  are  not  rare  in  which 
a  whole  family,  from  the  oldest  to  the  youngest,  is 
equally  deep  in  crime,  the  little  ones  having  been 
thoroughly  and  systematically  educated  by  their  par- 
ents in  the  different  branches  of  stealing,  beginning 
with  the  simple  picking  of  the  pocket  of  some  unwary 
person,  and  finally  becoming  able  to  commit  the  most 
daring  burglaries.  The  pickpockets  are  largely  re- 
cruited from  the  newsboy  class.  These  boys  grow  up 
in  such  constant  association  with  criminals,  that  their 
moral  sense  becomes  so  stunted  that  they  step  readily 
into  lives  of  crime.  They  are  utterly  cut  off  from 
any  saving  or  refining  influence,  and  their  lives  throw 
them  into  the  companionship  of  thieves  and  aban- 


516 


NEW  YORK. 


doned  women,  whose  influence  over  them  is  all-pow 
erful^ 

Pickpockets  do  not  as  frequently  travel  in  gangs 
now  as  in  former  years.  With  the  exception  of  the 
old  and  well-known  professionals,  most  of  this  class 
of  thieving  is  done  by  young  men  of  i6  or  i8  years, 
who  rob  men  whom  they  find  intoxicated  of  the  money 
or  valuables  they  may  happen  to  have  about  them.  It 
is  difficult  to  keep  the  track  of  the  residences  of  pro- 
fessional pickpockets,  as  they  change  them  very  often, 
and  also  give  a  different  name  every  time  they  are 
arrested,  so  that  they  are  best  known  by  their  aliases. 
The  police  endeavor  to  have  all  known  professional 
thieves  constantly  under  surveillance,  but  the  task  is 
a  difficult  one.  In  addition  to  constantly  changing 
their  places  of  abode,  they  are  in  and  out  of  the  city 
frequently.  Several  saloons  and  localities,  however, 
have  become  notorious  as  resorts  of  pickpockets.  A 
saloon  and  hotel  near  the  Bowery  and  Canal  street,  a 
saloon  near  the  junction  of  the  Bowery  and  Fourth 
street,  and  one  near  the  corner  of  Mercer  and  Hous- 
ton streets,  are  well  known  to  the  police  as  resorts  of 
thieves. 

Most  of  the  pickpockets  now  come,  as  we  have  said, 
from  among  the  bootblacks  and  newsboys,  who  do  a 
thriving  business  in  the  winter  time,  when  overcoats 
are  worn  with  outside  pockets  for  small  change.  A 
newsboy,  when  offering  to  sell  a  paper,  and  while  hold- 
ing it  before  his  customer's  face,  will  skilfully  extract 
from  the  change  pocket  in  his  customer's  overcoat  all 
that  may  be  there.  Great  dexterity  is  sometimes  ac- 
quired in  this  manner. 


THE  rogues'  gallery. 


517 


The  ferry  boats,  the  street  cars,  and  the  platforms 
and  trains  of  the  elevated  railroads  are  favorite  fields 
for  the  operations  of  pickpockets.  The  neighborhood 
of  the  Grand  Central  Depot  is  also  busily  worked  by 
them.  One  or  more  thieves  will  work  his  way  into  a 
crowd  of  passengers,  jostle  them  about,  and  rob  them 
with  the  utmost  ease.  Some  are  so  bold  as  to  make 
scarcely  any  concealment  of  their  work. 

All  professional  pickpockets  that  are  arrested,  are 
photographed,  and  their  pictures  are  placed  in  the 
"Rogues'  Gallery"  at  police  headquarters.  It  some- 
times happens,  though  this  is  very  rare,  that  one  re- 
forms and  endeavors  to  gain  an  honest  livelihood.  In 
that  case  his  picture  is  taken  out  of  the  gallery  and 
privately  kept  by  the  Superintendent  of  Police  or  the 
Chief  of  the  Detective  Force,  and  if  the  reformation 
proves  to  be  complete  and  thorough,  the  picture  is 
either  destroyed  or  given  up  to  the  original.  The  de- 
tectives claim  that  their  efforts  to  arrest  and  convict 
pickpockets  are  not  properly  seconded  by  the  police 
magistrates.  In  case  a  professional  pickpocket  who 
is  well  known  to  the  police  is  arrested  late  at  night 
on  suspicion,  he  has  to  be  taken  to  the  police  court  by 
ten  o'clock  the  next  morning.  It  often  happens  that 
there  are  complaints  in  the  detective  office  against 
this  very  man,  and  a  full  description  given  by  some 
robbed  person,  which  points  out  this  one  as  the  thief 
wanted.  The  police  magistrates,  however,  insist  that 
the  evidence  against  the  prisoner  shall  be  immediately 
forthcoming ;  and,  as  it  is  frequently  the  case  that  the 
complainant  may  be  out  of  town,  or  for  some  other 


518 


NEW  YORK. 


reason  cannot  be  immediately  found,  the  prisoner  is 
discharged. 

One  of  the  most  dangerous  and  skilful  classes  of 
pickpockets  consists  of  women  and  young  girls.  These 
operate  with  great  success  in  dry-goods  stores,  churches, 
and  other  crowded  places  where  ladies  congregate. 

Another  dangerous  class  of  criminals  are  the  river 
thieves,  or  "  River  Pirates,"  as  they  are  sometimes 
termed.  There  are  about  fifty  of  this  class  known  to 
the  police  as  professionals,  and  these  are  among  the 
most  daring  and  successful  robbers  in  the  city.  The 
long  line  of  the  North  River  front  of  the  island  is  well 
lighted,  and  as  it  is  largely  occupied  by  the  piers  of 
the  great  railroad  and  steamship  lines,  it  is  strongly 
guarded  by  private  watchmen,  as  well  as  by  the  city 
police.  The  East  River  tront  is  neither  so  well  lighted 
nor  so  strongly  guarded,  and,  therefore,  constitutes 
the  principal  scene  of  the  operations  of  the  river 
thieves,  though  the  North  River  front  is  by  no  means 
exempt  from  their  depredations. 

The  river  thieves  work  hard  for  their  plunder. 
They  operate  in  gangs  of  three  or  four,  each  of  which 
has  a  large,  swift  rowboat,  equipped  with  bags  and 
tarpaulins.  They  row  silently  and  with  muffled  oars 
along  the  wharves,  darting  under  the  piers  occasion- 
ally to  escape  observation,  until  they  reach  the  vessel, 
or  vessels,  they  have  marked  during  the  day  for  rob- 
bery. Between  midnight  and  morning  is  the  time 
chosen  for  their  work.  Every  one  on  board  the  vessel 
is  asleep,  even  the  man  on  the  watch.  Approaching 
the  vessel  silently,  they  clamber  on  board  by  means 
of  her  chains,  or  by  a  rope  left  hanging  over  the  side. 


RIVER  THIEVES. 


520 


NEW  YORK. 


Moving  cautiously  about  her  decks,  they  secure  what- 
ever they  can  lay  their  hands  on,  fill  their  bags,  and 
lOwer  them  into  the  boat.  Though  they  will  often 
take  original  packages  unbroken,  they  prefer  to  force 
them  open,  and  rifle  them  of  their  contents,  which  are 
transferred  to  the  bags.  Merchandise  thus  removed 
from  the  original  package  cannot  be  identified  if  the 
thieves  are  arrested  with  it  in  their  possession,  and 
robbery  cannot  be  proved  against  them.  They  go 
well  armed,  and,  if  discovered  on  board  a  ship,  do  not 
hesitate  to  shed  blood  in  their  efforts  to  escape.  In 
spite  of  the  vigilance  of  the  harbor  police,  the  chances 
are  largely  in  favor  of  the  thieves.  They  choose  theii 
own  time  and  place  of  operation,  and  conduct  their 
movements  so  secretly,  and  with  such  system,  that  they 
are  generally  apt  to  escape.  If  pressed  too  hard  by  the 
police  boat,  in  their  efforts  to  get  away,  they  at  once 
open  fire  upon  it,  and  sharp  skirmishes  often  occur 
between  the  officers  of  the  law  and  the  thieves.  Dark 
and  stormy,  and  especially  foggy,  nights  are  the  favor- 
ite seasons  for  the  operations  of  the  river  thieves. 
They  know  every  foot  of  the  harbor  on  both  sides  of 
the  city,  and  are  able  to  row  for  long  distances  under 
the  piers.  The  North  and  East  River  fronts  of  the 
city,  and  the  wharves  of  Brooklyn  and  Jersey  City,  and 
even  vessels  lying  at  anchor  in  the  harbor,  are  busily 
worked  by  them.  They  rarely  attempt  to  rob  a 
steamship,  as  the  watch  is  stricter  on  those  vessels 
than  on  sailing  ships,  but  several  of  the  great  Euro- 
pean lines  have  suffered  from  their  depredations. 
Sometimes  they  find  a  schooner  in  charge  of  a  single 
man,  or  laid  up  for  the  winter.    The  man  in  charge 


RIVER  PIRATES. 


521 


is  quickly  overcome,  and  the  vessel  is  literally  stripped 
of  everything  that  can  be  carried  away  from  her,  and 
is  left  a  perfect  wreck.  Sometimes  a  desperate  gang- 
will  boldly  attack  a  vessel  lying  in  the  harbor,  and 
endeavor  to  overpower  her  crew.  They  can  be 
driven  off  only  after  a  hard  hand-to-hand  fight. 

One  of  the  worst  gangs  that  ever  infested  the 
waters  of  New  York  was  led  by  Mike  Shannahan, 
Under  his  guidance  the  pirates  would  sail  up  and 
down  the  East  River  in  the  schooner  "  Sunny  Shower," 
in  searchi  of  molasses.  When  unable  to  obtain  it 
legitimately,  they  would  steal  it  from  the  different 
piers.  When  a  sufficient  quantity  was  accumulated, 
they  would  sail  to  a  retired  nook  in  Long  Island 
Sound,  and  there  manufacture  whiskey  in  large  quan- 
tities. The  vessel  was  supplied  with  everything  neces- 
sary for  the  business,  and,  unmolested  by  the  authori- 
ties, the  gang  soon  made  a  large  sum  of  money.  One 
of  their  boldest  ^ploits  was  the  robbery  of  the  bark 
Saone.  The  vessel  lay  at  the  upper  quarantine  station, 
and  was  loaded  with  coffee.  Owing  to  the  prevalence 
of  yellow  fever  on  board  during  the  voyage,  the  cargo 
was  ordered  to  be  discharged  in  lighters.  Pulling 
alongside  in  broad  day,  the  pirates  hailed  the  mate» 
and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  come  on  board,  as  they 
were  thirsty.  They  found  the  mate  was  alone,  and  at 
once  boarded  the  ship.  Before  he  was  aware  of  their 
intentions,  the  mate  was  seized,  placed  below  the 
hatches,  and  tied  to  the  ringbolts  on  the  main  deck. 
During  all  this  time  the  Staten  Island  ferry  boats,  and 
other  vessels,  were  passing  and  repassing  continually. 
Taking  off  the  hatches,  the  thieves  transferred  to  their 


622 


NEW  YORK. 


boat  two  hundred  bags  of  coffee,  and,  bidding  the  mate 
good  day,  left  the  vessel.  They  conveyed  their  goods 
to  the  Floating  Bethel  for  Seamen,  moored,  as  now, 
in  the  East  River,  and  concealed  their  plunder  in  an 
unused  hatch  until  they  were  able  to  remove  it  safely. 

The  life  of  a  river  thief  is  full  of  hardship  and  danger. 
Apart  from  his  encounters  with  the  police  and  the 
crews  of  vessels,  he  has  to  battle  with  the  elements 
and  endure  an  extraordinary  amount  of  exposure  and 
fatigue.  Constant  night-work  on  the  water,  exposed 
to  wind  and  storm,  snow  and  ice,  will  break  down  the 
strongest  constitution,  and  the  river  thief  soon  passes 
from  the  scene  of  his  exploits  to  the  hospital  or  alms- 
house, if,  indeed,  he  is  fortunate  enough  to  escape  the 
penitentiary. 

Though  the  professional  thieves  are  so  successful 
in  securing  plunder,  they  would  be  at  a  loss  to  dispose 
of  it  to  advantage  were  it  not  for  the  "Fences"  with 
whom  they  deal.  The  "  Fence  "  is  simply  a  dealer  in 
stolen  goods,  knowing  them  to  be  such.  He  is  re- 
garded by  the  police  as  the  most  important  person  in 
the  business  of  stealing,  as  without  his  assistance  the 
thieves  could  not  realize  upon  their  plunder.  The 
"  Fence "  is  generally  the  keeper  of  a  pawnshop  or 
junk  store  in  a  part  of  the  city  inhabited  by  the  poorer 
classes.  His  acquaintance  among  the  professional 
thieves  is  extensive.  When  one  thief  wishes  to  com- 
municate with  another  whose  place  of  abode  is  not 
known  to  him,  he  goes  at  once  to  the  "  Fence  "  to  get 
the  desired  address,  or  to  leave  a  message.  All  plun- 
der obtained  by  thieves,  such  as  jewelry,  watches,  gold 
and  silver  ware,  costly  house  ornaments,  and  articles 


THE  FENCES. 


523 


of  clothing,  for  which  the  thieves  have  no  use,  and 
which  they  cannot  keep  in  their  possession  without 
great  danger,  is  brought  to  the  ''Fence"  to  be  dis- 
posed of.  The  disposal  of  stolen  property  is  often 
attended  with  as  much'  risk  as  the  procuring  of  it,  and 
the  "  Fence "  always  demands  his  full  share  of  the 
profits  for  his  part  in  the  transaction.  The  crafty  re- 
ceiver knows  very  well  that  the  thieves  place  them- 
selves in  his  power  when  they  come  to  him  to  dispose 
of  their  plunder,  and  he  does  not  hesitate  to  drive 
hard  bargains  with  the  less  desperate  of  his  customers. 
A  thief  frequently  gets  no  more  than  enough  to  pay 
his  week's  board  for  stealing  a  valuable  watch.  When- 
ever a  burglary  is  planned  by  thieves  a  "Fence"  is 
always  consulted,  for  without  some  means  of  hastily 
removing  and  disposing  of  the  goods  no  profit  could 
be  gained  by  the  undertaking.  It  is  usual  for  the 
"  Fence  "  to  provide  a  wagon,  watch  the  building  in 
which  the  burglars  are  at  work,  and,  at  a  prearranged 
signal,  to  drive  to  the  place  and  carry  off  the  booty. 
If  a  clothing  house  or  fur  store  has  been  robbed,  the 
articles  are  at  once  stripped  of  their  wrappings  and 
so  altered  in  appearance  that  the  owners  would  find 
it  difficult  to  identify  their  property.  The  "  Fences  " 
keep  melting  pots  in  their  houses,  and  articles  of  gold 
or  silver,  including  the  cases  of  watches  in  many  in- 
stances, are  converted  into  bars  of  metal,  which  can 
be  easily  disposed  of  without  detection.  Precious 
stones  are  removed  from  their  settings,  and  the  gold 
is  either  melted,  or  the  marks  by  which  it  may  be 
identified  are  removed  by  burnishing.  The  marks  on 
dry-goods  and  clothing  are  removed  by  chemicals  or 


524 


NEW  YORK. 


fine  scissors,  and  even  the  trimmings  and  sometimes 
the  shapes  of  garments  are  altered.  Every  fence 
store  has  numerous  places  in  which  stolen  goods  may 
be  safely  hidden,  and  every  means  is  used  to  baffle 
the  vigilance  of  the  police.  Every  fence  store  in  the 
city  is  known  to  the  authorities,  and  is  under  surveil- 
lance, but  in  spite  of  this,  so  great  is  the  skill  of  the 
"  Fences  "  that  it  is  a  rare  thing  that  one  of  them  is 
ever  brought  to  justice.  The  thieves  are  not  their 
only  customers  ;  dishonest  clerks,  porters,  and  servant 
girls  steal  from  their  employers,  and  dispose  of  their 
plunder  to  the  "Fences." 

The  roughs  constitute  another  class  of  professional 
criminals.  The  rough  is  simply  a  brutal  man,  who 
seems  lost  to  all  the  better  feelings  of  humanity,  and 
who  engages  in  violence  and  crime  simply  for  the 
pleasure  it  affords  him.  He  is  not  necessarily  a  thief, 
though  he  often  does  steal  for  a  living.  As  a  general 
rule  he  lives  upon  the  earnings  of  some  woman  of  ill- 
fame,  and  though  he  beats  and  maltreats  her  himself, 
protects  her  from  injury  at  the  hands  of  others  of  his 
class.  His  favorite  amusement  is  to  attend  picnics 
and  celebrations  in  the  suburbs  or  on  board  steamers, 
and  to  break  up  the  enjoyment  of  the  occasion  by  beat- 
ing and  robbing  the  pleasure  seekers.  At  such  times 
gangs  of  roughs  work  together,  and  women  and  chil- 
dren, as  well  as  men,  are  the  objects  of  their  brutal 
violence.  The  rough  is  both  a  bully  and  a  coward. 
He  does  not  hesitate  to  commit  murder  or  to  outrage 
a  woman,  but  he  does  this  only  when  he  can  act  with- 
out jeopardy  to  his  own  safety.  He  will  not  engage  in 
«  fair  fight,  and  slinks  away  from  real  danger.    He  is 


BLACKMAILERS  AND  THEIR  VICTIMS. 


525 


often  the  proprietor  of  a  panel-house,  a  policy-office, 
or  a  rat-  or  dog-pit,  and  his  associates  are  his  fellow- 
roughs,  thieves,  and  prostitutes.  He  is  a  politician  by 
nature,  and  does  the  dirty  work  of  the  "  statesmen  " 
w^ho  rule  in  municipal  politics.  This  gives  him  the 
only  importance  he  enjoys,  and  also  often  saves  him 
from  punishment  for  his  crimes.  As  soon  as  his  mis- 
deeds bring  him  into  trouble,  his  political  friends  exert 
themselves  to  save  him  from  punishment,  and  are  gen- 
erally successful. 

Blackmailers  are  also  classed  by  the  police  among 
the  professional  criminals.  The  object  of  these  people 
is  to  live  at  the  expense  of  others  more  fortunate  than 
themselves,  and  to  acquire  the  means  of  doing  so  by 
extorting  money  from  them  by  threats.  The  black- 
mailer, though  sometimes  a  man,  is  generally  a  woman. 
The  well-known  weakness  of  mankind  inclines  the 
community  to  listen  with  considerable  readiness  to 
charges  brought  by  a  woman,  and  men  knowing  this 
are  often  afraid  to  offer  any  resistance  to  the  black- 
mailer. They  fear  that  the  charges  will  be  believed, 
however  they  may  deny  them,  and  know  that  at  all 
events  they  wall  produce  a  scandal ;  so  they  pay  the 
sums  demanded  of  them  in  the  hope  of  hushing  the 
matter  up.  Instead  of  accomplishing  this,  they  simply 
place  themselves  in  the  power  of  the  wretch,  whose 
demands  for  money  increase  with  every  compliance  of 
the  victim.  Innocent  men  have  been  driven  to  despair 
and  suicide  by  these  wretches.  A  firm  stand  at  the 
first,  with  the  assistance  of  the  police,  would  end  all 
the  trouble  at  the  start ;  but  let  a  victim  once  yield, 
iand  he  is  certain  to  be  bled  as  long  as  he  will  stand  it. 


526 


NEW  YORK. 


Young  men  about  to  make  rich  marriages  are  the  fa- 
vorite  "  game  "  of  the  female  blackmailer,  who  gener- 
ally has  a  thief  or  a  rough  as  her  "  backer."  She 
knows,  and  indeed  so  does  the  young  man,  that  any 
story  about  a  man  will  find  believers.  She  goes  to 
the  intended  bridegroom,  threatens  to  denounce  him 
to  his  fiancee  as  her  destroyer,  and  demands  money  as 
the  price  of  her  silence.  Although  the  man  knows  he 
is  innocent,  he  dreads  the  scandal,  fears  it  will  break 
off  his  marriage,  and  generally  yields  to  the  demand 
of  the  wretch.  Should  he  refuse,  the  woman  boldly 
goes  to  the  young  lady,  and  carries  out  her  threat. 
This  is  her  revenge,  and  she  is  too  often  successful. 

A  description  of  the  arts  resorted  to  by  blackmail- 
ers to  extort  money  from  their  victims  would  fill  a 
volume.  Their  ingenuity  and  fertility  of  resource  are 
wonderful.  They  rarely  assail  women,  as  they  know 
the  male  relatives  of  a  lady  so  attacked  would  briiig 
the  police  upon  them.  Men  are  their  victims,  and 
they  rely  upon  their  fears  for  success. 


THE  NATIONAL  RIFLE  ASSOCIATION.  527 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

CREEDMOOR. 

TBS  NATIONAL  RIFLE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA — THE  CREEDMOOR  RANGE — THE  GROUHDS 
— THB  TARGETS — SHOOTING  MATCHES — NATIONAL  GUARD  PRACTICE — AMA-^UR  MARKS- 
MEN. 

The  rifle  range  of  the  National  Rifle  Association 
of  America  is  located  at  Creedmoor,  a  little  village 
on  Long  Island,  about  thirteen  miles  from  New  York. 
The  association  owns  a  tract  of  eighty-five  acres  of 
land,  enclosed  with  a  substantial  fence,  and  levelled 
and  sodded  with  turf  Buildings  for  the  use  of  the 
association  and  marksmen  are  erected  within  the 
grounds,  and  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  lawn  thirty 
iron  targets  are  placed,  giving  any  desired  range  from 
50  to  1 200  yards.  At  various  intervals  are  placed  a 
"running  deer"  target,  "a  tramp"  or  "moving  man" 
target,  and  a  "  ringing  target,"  in  the  last  of  which  a 
bell  is  rung  when  the  centre  is  struck.  A  fine  clock- 
faced  wind  dial  is  placed  at  a  conspicuous  point  to 
show  the  marksmen  the  direction  of  the  wind,  and 
numerous  flags  and  streamers  are  planted  along  the 
range  for  the  same  purpose. 

Frequent  shooting  matches  are  held  at  Creedmoor 
during  the  year,  and  draw  large  crowds  from  New 
York,  Brooklyn,  and  the  surrounding  country.  The 
scene  at  such  times  is  very  brilliant,  as  the  ladies 
attend  the  matches  in  large  numbers,  and  take  great 


528 


NEW  YORK. 


interest  in  the  sport.  All  the  proceedings  are  regu- 
lated by  a  fixed  code  of  rules,  a  violation  of  which 
subjects  the  offender  to  a  forfeiture  of  the  privileges 


CRBBDHOOR  RIPLB 


of  the  range.  Each  regiment  of  the  National  Guard 
of  New  York  and  Brooklyn  is  required  to  practise  at 
the  Creedmoor  range  several  times  during  the  year, 


AMATEUR  MARKSMEN. 


529 


and  prizes  are  awarded  the  best  marksmen  on  such 
occasions. 

The  object  of  the  Rifle  Association  is  to  improve 
the  skill  of  its  members  in  the  use  oi  fire-arms.  Any 
person  of  respectability  may  enjoy  the  privileges  of 
the  range  upon  payment  of  a  small  sum  and  compli- 
ance with  the  rules.  The  range  is  very  popular  with 
amateurs,  and  some  of  the  most  skilful  shooting  in 
the  country  may  be  witnessed  here. 


530 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

BAR-ROOMS. 

AKRESTS  FOR  DRUNKENNESS  AND  DISORDER — NUMBER  OF  LICENSED  BAR-ROOMS — THE  DRnOC* 
ING  CAPACITY  OF  WALL  STREET — AMOUNT  OF  BEER  DRANK — THE  LARGEST  BAR  IN  TM« 
WORLD — AN  ENORMOUS  BUSINESS  IN  RUM — HIGH  RENTS  ASKED  FOR  BAR-ROOMS — THB  ALL* 
NIGHT  HOUSES — THE  BUCKET-SHOPS — GREAT  AMOUNT  OF  DRUNKENNESS — WOMEN  AS 
DRINKERS — WHERE  THEY  GET  THEIR  LIQUOR. 

About  35,000  persons  are  arrested  and  brought  be- 
fore the  Police  Courts  of  the  Metropolis  every  year 
for  "  drunkenness  "  and  "  drunkenness  and  disorder." 
The  Temperance  Societies  of  the  city,  on  the  other 
hand,  do  not  number  20,000  members.  The  contrast 
is  startling,  but  becomes  even  more  so  when  it  is  re- 
membered that  the  persons  arrested  are  only  a  small 
part  of  the  vast  number  who  daily  pay  tribute  to  the 
bar-rooms  and  rum-shops  of  New  York.  The  Board 
of  Excise  licenses  2430  places  where  liquors  are  sold 
by  the  single  glass  or  drink,  or  about  one  bar-room 
to  every  six  hundred  inhabitants  of  the  city.  These 
represent  every  grade  of  drinking  establishment,  from 
the  magnificent  Broadway  saloon  to  the  "  gin-mill  "  of 
the  Bowery  and  Sixth  avenue,  and  the  "  bucket-shops  * 
of  Baxter  street.  All  these  places  enjoy  a  greater  or 
less  degree  of  prosperity,  and  the  proprietors  grow 
rich,  unless  they  cut  short  their  lives  by  becoming 
their  own  best  customers.  For  alcoholic  and  malt 
liquors  sold  over  the  bar,  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
dollars  are  spent  daily.  It  is  estimated  that  in  the 
vicinity  of  Wall  street  alone,  7500  drinks  are  taken 


532 


NEW  YORK. 


and  150  bottles  of  champagne  are  disposed  of  every- 
day. The  "  bulls  and  bears  "  require  heavy  stimulants 
to  keep  them  up  to  their  exciting  work,  and  their  daily 
expenditure  for  such  purposes  is  about  ^2500.  Prob- 
ably this  may  account  for  some  of  the  queer  scenes 
to  be  witnessed  in  the  Stock  Exchange. 

The  quantity  of  beer  consumed  in  the  city  is  about 
three  times  that  of  whiskey,  which  is  the  most  common 
of  the  alcoholic  drinks.  The  true-blooded  German 
beer  drinker  will  consume  from  one  to  two  dozen 
glasses  of  his  favorite  beverage  in  twenty-four  hours, 
and  his  American  and  other  imitators  follow  closely 
in  his  footsteps. 

The  larorest  bar  in  the  world  is  that  at  the  Astor 
House,  which  transacts  the  bulk  of  its  business  be- 
tween the  hours  of  nine  a.  m.,  and  five  p.  m.  Its  receipts 
average  about  $700  a  day,  or  nearly  ^220,000  a  year, 
Sundays  excluded.  A  popular  bar  will  take  in  from 
^200  to  $400  a  day,  but  the  majority  of  the  liquor 
dealers  are  content  with  from  ^30  to  ^50  a  day.  Some 
of  these  places  remain  open  all  night,  and  are  filled 
with  dram  drinkers  at  all  hours.  At  the  first-class  es- 
tablishments the  liquors  sold  are  of  good  quality,  but 
as  the  scale  is  descended  the  quality  of  the  drinks 
falls  off,  until  the  low-class  bar-rooms  and  bucket- 
shops  are  reached,  in  which  the  most  poisonous  com- 
pounds are  sold,  under  the  name  of  whiskey,  brandy, 
gin,  rum,  etc.  The  prices  charged  are  high  and  the 
profits  are  enormous. 

The  rents  asked  for  bar-rooms  in  prominent  localities 
are  enormous.  There  is  one  man  in  New  York  who 
pays    1 0,000  a  year  for  a  small  room.    His  principal 


DRUNKENNESS  COMMON  IN  NEW  YORK.  533 


trade  is  in  whiskey,  which  he  sells  for  twenty  cents  a 
drink ;  for  brandy  he  charges  forty  cents. 

The  bucket-shops  are  simply  rooms  located  in  the 
poorer  sections  of  the  city,  where  liquors  of  the  vilest 
kind  are  sold  by  the  pint,  quart,  or  gallon.  Their  cus- 
tomers are  the  poor  and  wretched.  Only  the  most 
deadly  poisons  are  sold  here. 

It  is  impossible  to  estimate  the  amount  of  drunken- 
ness in  New  York.  The  arrests  represent  but  a  very 
small  part  of  it,  as  thousands  of  habitual  drunkards 
manage  to  keep  out  of  the  hands  of  the  police.  Re- 
spectable men  patronize  the  bar-rooms  regularly,  and 
are  constantly  seen  reeling  along  the  streets.  So  long 
as  they  are  not  helpless,  or  guilty  of  disorderly  con- 
duct, the  police  do  not  molest  them.  Systematic  drink- 
ing, which  does  not  amount  to  actual  intoxication,  but 
kills  by  slow  degrees,  is  very  common.  Among  the 
most  liberal  patrons  of  the  bar-rooms  and  beer-saloons 
are  young  men  and  even  boys,  who  thoughtlessly  be- 
gin here  careers  that  will  one  day  end  in  sorrow. 

Drunkenness  is  by  no  means  confined  to  men. 
Women  are  largely  addicted  to  it.  Out  of  some  32,000 
arrests  in  a  single  year  for  this  cause,  nearly  i  2,000 
were  females.  In  the  more  wretched  quarters  of  the 
city  women  drink  heavily,  and  are  among  the  most 
constant  customers  of  the  bucket-shops.  Even  women 
of  respectability  and  good  social  position  are  guilty  of 
the  vice  of  intemperance.  They  do  not  frequent  bar- 
rooms, but  obtain  liquor  at  the  restaurants  patronized 
by  them,  and  it  is  a  common  sight  to  see  a  well-dressed 
woman  rise  from  a  restaurant  table  under  the  influ- 
ence of'whiskey  or  brandy. 


534 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

HENRY  BERGH. 

THE  FRIEND  OF  THE  BRUTE  CREATION — ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE  "SOCIETY  FOR  THE  PRB» 
VENTION  OF  CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS  " — WORK  OF  MR.  BERGH — HOW  HE  BECAME  A  TERROR 
TO  TWO-LEGGED  BRUTES — A  NOBLE  RECORD. 

One  of  the  most  familiar  figures  upon  the  streets 
of  New  York  is  that  of  Henry  Bergh,  the  President 
of  the  "  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Ani- 
mals." Tall,  erect,  neatly  dressed,  and  with  a  counte- 
nance remarkable  for  its  expression  of  kindness  and 
benevolence,  he  never  fails  to  attract  attention  as  he 
passes  slowly  along,  seemingly  preoccupied,  but  keep- 
ing a  keen  watch  over  the  dumb  creatures  along  his 
route,  to  whose  protection  he  has  devoted  his  life 

Twenty  years  ago  Mr.  Bergh  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  his  mission  in  life  was  to  protect  dumb  ani- 
mals from  the  cruelties  practised  upon  them.  He 
entered  upon  his  self-appointed  task  with  enthusiasm, 
drew  others  into  the  good  work,  and  in  1866  suc- 
ceeded in  organizing  the  Society  of  which  he  is  the 
president.  The  necessary  legislation  was  carried 
through  the  Legislature  of  New  York  through  the  ef- 
forts of  the  society,  and  its  officers  were  empowered 
to  enforce  the  laws  thus  enacted. 

Mr.  Bergh  is  fifty-seven  years  old,  and  is  possessed 
of  ample  means.  He  is  devoted  to  the  cause  he  has 
espoused,  and  serves  the  Society  as,  its  president  with- 
out pay.    Since  he  began  his  work  he  has  created  a 


HENRY  BERGH. 


536  NEW  YORK. 

revolution  in  the  treatment  of  dumb  animals  in  New 
York.  He  spends  much  time  on  the  streets,  and  his 
officers  are  scattered  throughout  the  city,  on  the  watch 
for  cases  of  cruelty.  A  brutal  driver,  engaged  in 
belaboring  his  horses,  is  suddenly  collared,  and  look- 
ing up  finds  himself  in  the  grasp  of  Henry  Bergh,  or 
one  of  his  officers,  and  is  made  to  desist  from  his 
cruel  work.  If  a  wagon  is  laden  too  heavily  for  the 
poor  beast  attached  to  it,  the  driver  is  made  to  lighten 
his  load,  or  to  take  the  horse  out  of  the  shafts.  Sick 
and  broken-down  or  crippled  horses  are  taken  from 
their  drivers  on  the  streets,  and  sent  to  the  hospital 
of  the  Society,  where  they  are  properly  cared  for.  Mn 
Bergh  has  made  himself  a  terror  to  the  brutal  drivers 
who  once  disgraced  the  city.  Nor  does  he  confine 
his  good  work  to  the  streets.  At  the  most  unex- 
pected times  he  will  make  a  descent  upon  some 
wretched  stable,  where  a  suffering  horse  is  being  kept 
without  proper  care,  and  rescue  the  poor  animal.  The 
cruel  owners  of  horseflesh  have  learned  that  it  is  use- 
less to  resist  or  to  argue  with  him.  He  has  the  law 
at  his  back,  and  can  summon  the  police  to  his  assist- 
ance if  need  be.  In  aggravated  cases  he  does  not 
stop  with  relieving  a  tortured  animal,  but  causes  the 
arrest  and  punishment  of  the  perpetrator  of  the 
cruelty.  He  is  a  sworn  foe  to  dog  and  cock  fights,, 
and  visits  his  heaviest  wrath  upon  the  persons  en- 
gaged in  such  brutalism. 

At  first  Mr.  Bergh  met  with  much  opposition  and 
considerable  ridicule  in  his  efforts  to  carry  on  his  good 
work,  but  he  has  conquered  both,  and  has  gained  the 
firm  support  of  the  best  classes  of  the  community. 


A  GRAND  WORK.  537 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE  EAST  RIVER  BRIDGE. 

tRAVEL  AND  TRAFFIC  BETV\^EN  NEW  YORK  AND  BROOKLYN— THE  FERRIES — PLANS  FOR  A 
BRIDGE— THE  WORK  BEGUN— THE  GREAT  BRIDGE— THE  TOWERS— THE  BRIDGE  PROPBR 
—THE  CENTRAL  SPAN— THE  CABLES— THE  ANCHORAGES— THE  APPROACHES— PLANS  FOK 
TRAVEL  ACROSS  THE  BRIDGE. 

To  all  intents  and  purposes  New  York  and  Brook- 
lyn form  one  metropolis,  and  the  day  is  not  far  distant 
when  the  two  cities  will  be  united  under  a  single  cor- 
porate government.  The  intercourse  "between  them 
is  constant  and  steadily  increasing.  iVbout  eighty 
millions  of  people  annually  cross  the  East  River,  and 
for  many  years  the  ferries  have  been  utterly  inade- 
quate to  the  demand  upon  them.  The  boats  are 
always  crowded,  and  when  the  river  is  filled  with 
ice  or  shrouded  in  fog,  the  passage  between  the  two 
cities  is  more  dangerous  than  a  voyage  across  the 
Atlantic. 

The  necessity  for  providing  a  better,  safer,  and 
more  regular  communication  between  the  two  cities 
led  a  number  of  capitalists,  some  years  ago,  to  con- 
ceive the  plan  of  bridging  the  East  River  at  a  conven- 
ient point,  and  after  much  discussion  a  company  was 
formed  for  that  purpose.  A  charter  was  obtained 
from  the  Legislature  of  the  State,  and  the  necessary 
capital  subscribed,  the  cities  of  New  York  and  Brook- 
lyn each  assuming  a  certain  proportion  of  the  cost  of 
the  undertaking.  It  was  determined  that  the  struct- 
ure should  be  a  suspension  bridge,  and  work  was 


t 


» 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  FRIDGE.  539 

begun  upon  it  in  1871.  The  bridge  is  swung  from  two 
massive  towers  of  granite,  each  of  which  rests  upon  a 
caisson  sunk  to  the  soHd  rock,  which,  on  the  New 
York  side,  is  from  82  to  92,  and  on  the  Brooklyn  side 
45  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  water.  The  towers 
erected  upon  this  foundation  are  136  feet  in  length  by 
56  feet  in  width  at  the  water-line,  and  rise  to  a  height 
of  238  feet  above  the  river  at  high  water.  They 
gradually  diminish  in  size  as  they  ascend,  until  at  the 
cornice  they  are  i  20  feet  in  length  by  40  feet  in  width,, 
They  are  constructed  of  massive  masonry,  are  pierced 
with  two  archways  each,  and  rise  high  above  the  twin 
cities,  forming  the  most  conspicuous  objects  in  any 
view  of  them  from  the  East  or  North  Rivers.  The 
New  York  tower  is  located  on  the  river  shore  near 
the  foot  of  Roosevelt  street,  and  the  Brooklyn  tower 
is  just  north  of  the  Fulton  Ferry  house.  The  New 
York  terminus  of  the  bridge  is  in  Chatham  street, 
immediately  below  the  City  Hall  Station  of  the  Ele- 
vated Railway,  and  the  Brooklyn  terminus  is  in  the 
square  bounded  by  Fulton,  Prospect,  Washington,  and 
Sands  streets. 

The  bridge  is  divided  into  five  parts :  the  central 
span  over  the  river  between  the  towers,  1,595  feet 
long ;  a  span  on  each  side  from  the  tower  to  the  an- 
chorage, 940  feet  in  length ;  and  the  approaches — 
from  the  termini  to  the  anchorages — the  New  York 
approach  being  1,336  feet  long,  and  the  Brooklyn 
approach  836  feet  long.  The  entire  structure  is  6,000 
^eet  in  length,  and  85  feet  in  width,  and  includes  a 
promenade  of  13  feet,  two  railroad  tracks,  and  four 
wagon  or  horse-car  tracks.    Four  immense  cables  of 


540  »       NEW  YORK. 

Steel  wire,  each  i6  inches  in  diameter,  pass  from  the 
anchorages  over  the  towers,  and  from  these  cables  are 
suspended  the  supporting  wires  which  sustain  the 
floor  of  the  bridge.  The  deflection  of  the  cables  is 
128  feet.  Stays  run  from  the  cables  and  floor  of  the 
bridge  to  the  towers  to  prevent  the  swinging  of  the 
structure,  and  enable  it  to  resist  the  force  of  the 
heaviest  gales.  The  centre  of  the  floor  of  the  bridge 
is  135  feet  above  high  water. 

At  a  distance  of  940  feet  back  from  the  towers  are 
placed  the  anchorages,  which  are  constructed  of  mas- 
sive masonry  in  the  most  substantial  manner.  After 
passing  over  the  towers  each  of  the  four  cables  enters 
the  anchor  walls  at  an  elevation  of  nearly  80  feet 
above  high  water,  and,  after  passing  through  the  ma- 
.sonry  for  a  distance  of  20  feet,  is  firmly  secured  by 
powerful  anchor  chains.  The  cables  support  the  floor 
of  the  bridge  from  the  towers  to  the  anchorages  in 
the  same  manner  as  in  the  central  span,  this  portion 
of  the  bridge  passing  over  the  tops  of  the  houses  un- 
derneath. 

The  approaches  extend  from  the  terminus  of  the 
bridge  on  each  side  to  the  anchorages,  and  are  sup- 
ported by  iron  girders  and  trusses,  which  rest  at  short 
intervals  on  piers  of  masonry,  or  iron  columns,  built 
within  the  blocks  crossed  and  occupied.  The  streets 
are  crossed  by  stone  arches,  at  an  elevation  sufficient 
to  leave  them  unobstructed. 

The  bridge  was  thrown  open  to  the  public  for  the 
first  time  on  May  24,  1883.  Both  cities  were  pro- 
fusely decorated. 

The  procession  which  started  from  the  City  Hall, 


OPENING   OF  THE  BRIDGE. 


Brooklyn,  was  led  by  Mayor  Low  and  President 
Dimon,  of  the  Common  Council,  followed  by  the  city 
and  State  officials,  the  Brooklyn  trustees  of  the  bridge, 
Commodore  Upshur  and  staff,  and  General  Hancock 
and  staff.  There  were  also  in  line  two  detachments 
of  United  States  troops.  Mayor  Low  and  the  city 
officials  stopped  in  the  Brooklyn  tower,  while  the 
United  States  troops  moved  across  to  await  the  Pres- 
ident. In  New  York  the  Seventh  regiment  acted  as 
military  escort  to  the  President  and  other  distinguished 
g^uests. 

William  C.  Kingsley,  chief  of  the  bridge  trustees, 
awaited  the  party  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  President 
Arthur  and  Mr.  Kingsley  walked  together,  followed 
by  Mayor  Edson  and  Secretary  Folger,  and  the  rest 
of  the  trustees  and  State  officials.  At  the  Brooklyn 
tower  they  were  met  by  Mayor  Low  and  the  Brooklyn 
officials,  and  from  there  proceeded  to  Sands  street 
station,  where  the  opening  ceremonies  were  held. 

Lines  of  horse  and  steam  cars  traverse  the  bridge, 
taking  up  passengers  at  the  City  Hall  in  New  York, 
and  setting  them  down  at  the  City  Hall  in  Brooklyn, 
and  vice  versa.  In  this  way  the  passage  of  the  river 
is  made  safely  and  speedily,  and  the  passengers 
enabled  to  enjoy  a  grand  view  of  the  two  cities  and 
the  neighboring  waters. 

The  bridge  will  undoubtedly  prove  a  profitable  en- 
terprise, as  it  will  enjoy  an  enormous  patronage,  which 
will  increase  from  year  to  year. 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

GAMBLERS  AND  THEIR  WAYS. 

lAWS  AGAINST   GAMBLING— NUMBER   OF  GAMBLERS   IN  THE  CITY— THE  FARO  BANKS— FIRST. 

CLASS    ESTABLISHMENTS — SPLENDID    VICE — THE     BROADWAY    HELLS — THE    SKIN  GAME  

DANGERS  OF  SUCH  PLACES — THE  DAY  HOUSES — POOL-SELLING — TRICKS  OF  POOL-SELLERS 
— LOTTERIES — HOW  THEY  ARE  CONDUCTED — POLICY  DEALING — AN  INSIDE  VIEW  OF  THB 
GAME. 

The  statutes  of  the  State  of  New  York  denounce 
severe  penalties  against  gambUng  and  gamblers,  yet 
games  of  chance  flourish  in  the  Metropolis  to  a  greater 
extent  than  in  any  other  place  in  the  United  States 
east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  There  are  said  to  be 
about  200  gambling  houses  in  New  York,  and  about 
2,500  persons  known  to  the  police  as  professional 
gamblers,  dealers  in  policy,  and  lottery  agents.  Of 
late  years  the  laws  against  gambling  have  been  en~ 
forced  more  rigidly  than  formerly,  and  the  number  of 
professional  gamblers  has  somewhat  diminished.  Yet 
there  are  still  enough  of  them  to  make  their  business 
a  very  marked  feature  of  Metropolitan  life. 

At  the  head  of  the  gambling  fraternity  are  the  faro 
dealers.  This  game  is  too  well  known  to  the  average 
American  to  need  a  description  here,  and  is  very 
popular  in  this  country  because  of  its  supposed  fair- 
ness. There  are  between  90  and  100  faro  banks  in 
the  city,  some  of  which  are  palatial  establishments. 
The  finest  of  these  are  situated  on  Broadway  and  in 
the  cross  streets  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  up-town 
fashionable  hotels.     Outwardly  they  appear  to  be 


FIRST-CLASS  GAMBLING  HOUSES.  54S 


simply  private  dwellings,  but  they  have  a  silent,  de- 
serted air  during  the  day,  giving  no  signs  of  family 
life.  The  blinds  are  kept  down,  and  only  men  are 
seen  to  enter  and  leave  the  houses.  They  are  fur- 
nished with  great  magnificence  ;  the  ceilings  are  elab- 
orately frescoed,  and  costly  paintings  adorn  the  walls  ; 
the  softest  carpets  cover  the  floors  ;  the  most  costly 
furniture  fills  the  apartments  ;  and  superb  chandeliers 
hang  from  the  ceilings  and  shed  a  brilliant  glow 
through  the  rooms.  The  servants  are  colored,  and 
the  attendance  is  all  that  could  be  desired.  Delicious 
suppers  are  spread  nightly  for  the  guests,  and  rare 
old  wines  and  liquors  are  at  the  command  of  all  who 
honor  the  place  with  their  presence.  In  the  various 
rooms  of  the  house  are  all  the  conveniences  for  gam- 
ing. No  one  is  asked  to  play,  but  it  is  understood 
that  all  who  partake  of  the  proprietor  s  hospitality  are 
expected  to  make  some  return  by  risking  something 
at  the  tables.  In  the  best  houses  the  games  are  gen- 
erally fair,  the  proprietor  trusting  to  the  chances  of 
the  game,  which  are  nearly  all  in  favor  of  the  bank 
and  the  skill  of  the  dealer.  Great  care  is  exercised  in 
the  admission  of  visitors.  The  proprietors  of  these 
places  discourage  the  visits  of  young  men  ;  they  pre- 
fer the  company  of  men  of  means  who  have  some- 
thing to  lose.  The  guests  are  prominent  men  in  the 
country,  as  a  rule,  lawyers,  judges,  professional  men 
of  all  kinds,  brokers,  and  the  like.  Members  of  Con- 
gress and  State  Legislatures,  and  public  men  gener- 
ally, are  among  the  most  constant  visitors  to  the  first- 
class  gambling  houses.  Poker  is  largely  played  in  the 
private  rooms  of  these  establishments. 


544  '       NEW  YORK. 

The  second-class  houses,  or  "hells,"  lie  principally 
along  Broadway  and  prominent  streets  leading  from 
it.    The  visitors  to  these  establishments  are  chiefly 


SCENE  IN  A  BROADWAY  GAMBLING  HELL. 


Strangers  in  the  city,  who  are  lured,  or  "  roped,"  into 
them  by  agents  of  the  proprietors.  Faro  is  the  prin- 
cipal game  here,  but  fair  games  are  unknown  except 


"  SKIN  FARO."  • 


545 


among  the  professionals  who  frequent  the  place.  The 
'*  skin  game  "  is  used  with  the  majority  of  the  visitors, 
for  the  proprietor  is  determined  from  the  outset  to 
fleece  them  without  mercy.  In  these  places  everything 
pertainir^  to  gaming  is  boldly  displayed — chips,  cards, 
faro  boxes,  roulette  wheels,  handsome  gaming  tables, 
and  side-boards  containing  fine  brands  of  liquors  and 
cigars.  The  entrances  to  the  houses  are  carefully 
guarded,  the  doors  are  secured  by  heavy  bolts  and 
bars,  and  numerous  sliding  panels  afford  every  oppor- 
tunity for  inspecting  the  visitor  before  his  final  admis- 
sion to  the  rooms.  Though  roulette  is  frequently 
played  in  these  establishments,  faro,  as  we  have  said, 
is  the  principal  game.  It  is  simpler  than  roulette, 
gives  a  heavy  percentage  in  favor  of  the  bank,  and 
"skin  faro,"  the  only  game  played  here,  offers  no 
chance  whatever  to  the  player.  In  "  skin  faro  "  the 
dealer  can  take  two  cards  from  the  box  instead  of  one, 
whenever  he  chooses  to  do  so.  The  box  is  so  ar- 
ranged that  the  dealer  can  press  on  a  lever  within  the 
box  in  the  right-hand  corner.  When  this  is  pressed 
upon,  the  mouth  of  the  box  is  opened,  so  as  to  allow 
two  cards  to  slip  out  at  once.  The  cards  being 
"  sanded,"  stick  close  together,  and  the  player  cannot 
perceive  that  there  are  two.  On  the  withdrawal  of 
the  pressure  from  the  lever  the  mouth  of  the  box  is 
closed  by  a  spring,  so  that  only  one  card  can  slip  out. 
There  are  some  boxes  made,  called  "  sanded  boxes," 
by  the  use  of  which  the  dealer  can  press  on  the  end 
of  the  box  and  take  out  two  cards,  still  keeping  his 
fingers  in  the  natural  position,  instead  of  being  obliged 
to  reach  inside  of  the  box  in  order  to  press  the  lever. 
35 


546 


NEW  YORK. 


No  tally  IS  kept  of  these  games,  and  the  player  is  un- 
able to  tell  how  many  cards  have  been  dealt  out. 
Should  he  discover  the  trick,  it  is  highly  dangerous  to 
attempt  to  expose  it,  as  nearly  all  the  persons  present 
are  in  league  with  the  bank,  and  are  united  in  the 
effort  to  get  possession  of  the  visitor's  money.  The 
safest  plan  is  to  bear  the  loss  and  get  out  of  the  place 
as  soon  as  possible,  as  the  men  present  will  not  hesi- 
tate to  provoke  a  quarrel  with  or  assault  a  stranger 
who  disputes  the  fairness  of  the  game.  A  quarrel 
once  started,  every  advantage  is  taken  of  the  player, 
and  .his  life  is  not  worth  a  farthing.  The  safest  plan 
of  all  is  to  remain  away  from  these  hells.  The  man 
who  enters  any  gaming-house  in  New  York,  especially 
a  stranger  in  the  city,  is  a  fool,  and  deserves  to  lose 
his  money.  He  who  ventures  into  one  of  these  second- 
class  houses,  risks  not  only  his  money,  but  his  life. 
However  wise  a  man  may  be  in  his  own  conceit,  how- 
ever he  may  rank  as  an  oracle  in  his  distant  home, 
however  brave,  resolute,  or  skilful  he  may  be,  he  is 
no  match  for  a  New  York  gambler.  In  nine  houses 
out  of  ten  his  life  is  in  danger  unless  he  submits  quietly 
to  be  robbed  in  the  most  barefaced  manner. 

The  up-town  houses  conduct  their  operations  prin- 
cipally by  night.  The  "Day  Houses"  are  down-town 
institutions.  Ann  street,  in  the  rear  of  the  Herald 
office,  and  several  streets  adjacent  or  convenient  to 
Wall  street,  are  the  principal  neighborhoods  infested 
with  them.  Not  long  since  a  single  block  in  Ann 
street  contained  five  of  these  housed,  and  the  majority, 
though  several  times  raided  by  the  police,  still  con- 
tinue to  flourish.     The  "Day  Houses"  occupy  the 


DAY  GAMELING  HOUSES. 


547 


upper  floors  of  buildings,  the  street  floors  of  which 
are  devoted  to  legitimate  business,  and  claim  to  be 
Club  Houses."    They  are  managed  by  the  lowest 
class  of  gamblers,  skin  games  only  are  played  in 


LOW-CLASS  GAMBLING  DEN. 


them,  and  the  players  have  no  possible  chance  of  suc- 
cess. Yet  they  manage  to  do  a  profitable  business. 
Their  visitors  are  Wall  street  brokers,  clerks,  sales- 
men, and  men  in  regular  business,  who  too  often  risk 
here  money  that  is  not  their  own. 


548 


NEW  YORK. 


One  of  the  worst  and  most  demoralizing  forms  of 
gambling  is  "  pool  selling."  The  pool  business  is 
conducted  more  or  less  openly,  notwithstanding  that 
the  laws  of  the  State  denounce  severe  punishments 
against  it.  The  business  is  conducted  by  professional 
gamblers,  and,  though  seemingly  fair,  is  a  swindle 
throughout.  Pools  are  sold  on  horse-races,  prize- 
fights, boat-races,  swimming  matches,  political  elec- 
tions, and  in  short  on  every  conceivable  contest  into 
which  the  element  of  chance  or  doubt  enters.  The  pool 
is  supposed  to  be  made  up  of  a  fixed  number  of  chances, 
each  of  which  is  sold  at  a  certain  price.  The  man- 
agers charge  a  percentage  or  commission  on  all  tick- 
ets sold,  and  do  not  hesitate  to  sell  as  many  as  there 
are  applicants  for,  even  though  the  legitimate  number 
is  exceeded  by  such  sales.  It  is  said  that  on  a  recent 
presidential  election  as  much  as  ^2,000,000  was  staked 
in  pools.  The  commission  on  the  sales  charged  by 
the  proprietors  of  the  pool  rooms  is  from  three  to  five 
per  cent,  and  a  certain  well-known  manager  is  said 
to  have  realized  $60,000  from  his  commissions  on  the 
election  mentioned  above.  A  favorite  trick  is  to 
receive  the  money  invested  in  pools,  and  then  spread 
reports  which  shall  discourage  the  betters,  and  induce 
them  to  withdraw  thqir  bets.  The  managers  return 
the  amounts  invested,  minus  their  commission,  which 
they  retain,  and  in  this  way,  while  seeming  to  act  with 
perfect  fairness,  fill  their  coffers  at  the  expense  of 
their  victims. 

The  great  evil  of  pool "  gambling  is  that  it  encour- 
ages young  men  and  boys  to  enter  into  the  combina- 
tions, and  thus  gives  them  a  taste  for  gambling.  The 


POOL  GAMBLING. 


549 


possibility  of  winning  considerable  money  by  small 
investments  fascinates  them.  During  a  recent  politi- 
cal campaign  officers  of  two  of  the  largest  banks  in  the 
city  called  upon  the  Police  Commissioners,  and  stated 
that  they  suspected  that  many  of  their  clerks  visited 
the  pool  rooms.  They  feared  that  the  excitement 
and  allurements  of  gambling  might  impair  the  integ- 
rity of  these  young  men,  and  induce  them  to  appro- 
priate money  belonging  to  the  banks.  Detectives 
were  employed,  and  the  suspicions  of  the  bank  offi- 
cers were  confirmed.  Business  men  are  constantly 
finding  that  their  clerks  and  salesmen  are  regular  vis- 
itors to  the  pool  rooms.  Messenger  boys,  bootblacks, 
and  others  who  earn  only  a  few  dollars  a  week,  invest 
all  the  money  they  can  get  hold  of  in  buying  pool 
ti(!kets.  Men  of  the  highest  respectability  fall  victims 
to  the  same  vice,  and  the  evil  goes  on  increasing.  The 
only  persons  who  profit  by  it  are  the  managers  of  the 
pools,  who  do  not  hesitate  to  resort  to  any  trick  to 
retain  the  money  entrusted  to  them,  and  who  coolly 
swindle  their  infatuated  dupes  out  of  their  invest- 
ments. 

Another  vicious  form  of  gambling  is  the  lottery  bus- 
iness, closely  connected  with  which  is  "  policy  dealing." 
Lotteries  are  of  two  kinds — the  single  number  system, 
and  the  combination  system.  In  the  former,  as  many 
single  numbers  as  there  are  tickets  in  the  scheme,  are 
placed  in  a  wheel,  and  are  drawn  out  in  regular  order. 
The  first  number  drawn  wins  the  capital  prize,  and  s® 
on  until  as  many  numbers  are  drawn  as  there  are 
prizes.  In  the  combination  system,  seventy-five  num- 
bers are  generally  placed  in  the  wheel,  and  from  these 


550 


NEW  YORK. 


a  certain  set  of  numbers  are  drawn,  according  to  the 
provision  of  the  scheme.  The  chances  are  much 
greater  against  the  ticket-holders  in  this  system  than 
in  the  single  number  schemes,  as,  in  order  for  a  player 
to  win  a  prize,  the  various  numbers  must  be  drawn  in 
the  exact  order  represented  on  his  ticket. 

It  is,  of  course,  possible  for  a  lottery  to  be  fairly 
drawn,  but  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that  in  the  majority 
of  the  schemes  advertised  no  drazviiig  of  any  kind  ever 
takes  place.  A  bogus  drawing  is  published,  and,  though 
prizes  are  assigned,  not  a  single  ticket  holder  ever  re- 
ceives one.  Even  if  the  drawing  is  fair,  the  business 
is  to  be  denounced  on  the  ground  that  it  is  not  only 
illegal,  but  demoralizing.  The  purchasers  of  lottery 
tickets  are,  as  a  rule,  persons  unable  to  afford  the  ex- 
penditure— generally  the  very  poor.  This  species  of 
gambling  has  a  fascination  which  holds  its  votaries 
with  a  grip  of  iron.  They  venture  again  and  again, 
winning  nothing,  but  hoping  for  better  luck  next  time, 
and  so  continue  until  they  have  lost  their  all.  There 
are  hundreds  of  well-authenticated  cases  of  men  and 
-women  being  reduced  to  beggary,  despair,  and  suicide 
by  lottery  gambling.  ■* 

The  managers  of  the  various  lottery  schemes  are 
professional  gamblers.  They  are  without  principle, 
and  do  not  intend  to  pay  any  prizes  to  ticket-holders. 
They  receive  their  money  of  their  dupes,  announce  a 
bogus  drawing,  in  which  no  prizes  can  be  found  by 
any  ticket-holder,  and  then  coolly  ask  their  victims  to 
try  their  luck  again. 

Policy  dealing  is  one  degree  lower  in  infamy  than 
the  lottery  business.  There  are  about  400  policy  shops 


•9 


POLICY  PLAYING.  551 

in  the  city,  whose  principal  customers  are  negroes, 
sailors,  and  foreigners.  The  mazes  of  policy  are  not 
well  known  to  the  general  public.  Few  games  are  so 
well  devised  for  a  sure  loss  to  the  player,  even  when 
honestly  played,  and  the  more  influential  sellers  make 
this  assurance  doubly  sure  by  playing  to  suit  them- 
selves. The  game  consists  in  betting  on  certain  num- 
bers, within  the  range  of  the  lottery  schemes,  being 
drawn  at  the  noon  or  night  drawing.  Seventy-eight 
numbers  usually  make  up  the  lottery  scheme,  and  the 
policy  player  can  take  any  three  of  these  numbers  and 
bet  that  they  will  be  drawn,  either  singly,  or  in  such 
combinations  as  he  may  select.  The  single  numbers 
may  come  out  anywhere  in  the  drawing,  but  the  com- 
bination must  appear  as  he  writes  it  in  making  his  bet. 
He  pays  one  dollar  for  the  privilege  of  betting,  and  re- 
ceives a  written  slip  containing  the  number  gr  numbers 
on  which  he  bets.  If  a  single  number  is  chosen  and 
drawn,  he  wins  $5;  two  numbers  constitute  a  ''saddle/' 
and  if  both  are  drawn  the  player  wins  from  ^24  to  $32  ; 
three  numbers  make  a  "gig,"  and  win  from  $150  to 
$225;  four  numbers  make  a  "horse,"  and  win  $640. 
A  "capital  straddle"  is  a  bet  that  two  numbers  will  be 
among  the  first  three  drawn,  and  wins  $500.  The 
player  may  take  any  number  of  "  saddles,"  "gigs,"  or 
"horses,"  paying  ^i  for  each  bet. 

Now,  all  this  seems  very  fair ;  but  the  policy  man- 
agers are  equal  to  the  emergency.  As  soon  as  they 
receive  the  drawings,  if  they  find  that  too  many 
players  are  likely  to  win,  they  change  the  order  of  the 
numbers,  or  the  numbers  themselves,  and  thus  con- 
demn the  players  to  a  total  loss.  These  altered  num- 


552 


NEW  YORK. 


bers  are  printed  on  slips  at  a  central  office  in  Vesey 
street,  and  are  distributed  to  the  various  policy  shops. 
In  some  cases,  after  these  copies  have  been  sent  out, 
it  is  discovered  that  the  players  have  even  then  won 
too  much  to  suit  the  managers.  The  copies  are  im- 
mediately recalled  as  misprints,  and  new  copies  altered 
to  suit  the  managers  are  distributed. 

All  sorts  of  people  engage  in  this  wretched  game, 
blacks  and  whites,  rich  and  poor.  The  grossest  super- 
stitions are  indulged  in  respecting  "  lucky  numbers." 
Such  numbers  are  revealed  by  dreams,  which  are  in- 
terpreted by  "  dream-books."  To  dream  of  a  man  is 
one  of  a  woman  five  ; "  of  both  "  fifteen,"  and  so 
on.  A  large  publishing  house  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  city  sells  thousands  of  copies  of  the  "  dream-book  " 
every  year,  and  among  its  purchasers  are  said  to  be 
many  shrewd  operators  in  Wall  street.  So  great  is 
the  rage  for  policy  playing  that  men  and  women  be- 
come insane  over  it.  The  lunatic  asylums  contain 
many  patients  who  have  been  brought  there  by  this 
species  of  gambling. 


UNDER  THE  HUDSON  RIVER. 


553 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE  HUDSON  RIVER  TUNNEL. 

A   DARTNG  UNDERTAKING — THE  WORK    BEGUN — ACCIDENTS — DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  TUNNBLS— 
THE  PROPOSED  DEPOT  IN  NEW  YORK — PROSPECTS  OF  THE  SCHEME. 

One  of  the  most  daring  undertakings  ever  attempted 
by  modern  engineers  is  now  in  progress.  This  is  the 
construction  of  the  great  tunnel  under  the  Hudson 
River,  the  object  of  which  is  to  unite  the  city  of  New 
York  with  Jersey  City,  and  to  allow  the  railways  now 
terminating  in  the  latter  place  to  enter  the  Metropolis. 

This  orreat  work  is  to  consist  of  two  tunnels  laid 
side  by  side,  each  i8  feet  wide  and  i6  feet  high. 
Work  was  begun  on  the  Jersey  City  side,  at  the  foot 
of  Fifteenth  street,  on  the  ist  of  November.  1879. 
The  engineers  began  by  sinking  a  well,  30  feet  in  di- 
ameter, about  100  feet  inland  from  the  river.  This 
was  securely  walled  with  brickwork  and  shod  with 
wedge-shaped  steel  at  the  bottom.  When  a  depth 
of  60  feet  had  been  gained,  the  solid  bottom  w^hich 
was  found  was  floored  with  Roman  cement,  and  the 
work  of  boring  the  tunnel  under  the  bed  of  the  river 
was  begun,  and  in  spite  of  several  accidents,  in  one 
of  which,  on  the  21st  of  July,  1880,  20  men  were  killed, 
has  been  pushed  forward  steadily. 

The  tunnels  will  start  from  the  foot  of  Fifteenth 
street,  in  Jersey  City,  and  when  finished  will  extend 
in  a  straight  line  from  Pier  No.  9,  Jersey  City,  to  Pier 


554  NEW  YORK. 

No.  42,  at  the  foot  of  Morton  street,  New  York.  The 
distance  between  the  two  points  is  a  little  over  one 
mile,  but  with  the  approaches  the  entire  length  of  the 
tunnels  will  be  about  two  and  a  half  miles.    The  tun- 


THE  TtrNNEL  UNDER  THE  HUDSON  RIVBR. 


nels  will  adjoin  each  other,  but  will  be  separate  and 
distinct  pieces  of  workmanship,  unitiog,  however,  under 
the  grand  arches  at  the  working  shaft  on  either  side 
of  the  river.  Each  will  consist  of  an  immense  tube  of 
brick-work,  two  feet  thick,  laid  in  Roman  cement,  irtv- 


FUTURE  OF  THE  TUNNEL. 


555 


pervious  to  water,  and  capable  of  withstanding  any 
pressure  upon  it.  A  single  railroad  track  will  be  laid 
in  each,  and  as  one  of  them  will  be  used  for  trains 
entering,  and  the  other  for  trains  leaving  New  York, 
collisions  can  never  occur.  At  the  lowest  point  the 
tracks  will  be  about  60  feet  below  mean  tide.  At  no 
point  will  there  be  less  than  twenty  feet  of  earth  be- 
tween the  crown  of  the  tunnels  and  the  bed  of  the 
river.  It  is  expected  that  the  different  railways  enter- 
ing Jersey  City  will  use  the  tunnels  and  land  their 
passengers,  directly  in  New  York  City,  the  depot  be^ 
ing  probably  located  somewhere  near  Broadway  and 
Bleecker  street.  Several  years  will  be  required  for 
the  completion  of  this  great  work,  but  its  projectors 
regard  its  success  as  assured,  and  confidently  expect 
that  it  will  effect  a  complete  revolution  in  the  system 
of  travel  between  New  York  and  the  New  Jersey 
shore. 


556 


NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

FASHIONABLE  SHOPPING. 

FASHIONABLE   STORES — HANDSOME   GOODS — THE    FIXED-PRICE   SYSTEM — DETECTIVES  ON  THS 

WATCH — "  Stewart's  " —ENORMOUS  transactions  there. 

The  fashionable  stores  of  New  York  are  to  be 
found  principally  on  Broadway,  Fifth  and  Sixth  ave- 
nues, and  Fourteenth  and  Twenty-third  streets.  They 
embrace  dry-goods,  millinery,  jewelry,  fur,  clothing, 
shoe,  and  other  stores,  and  their  customers  consist 
almost  entirely  of  ladies.  They  are  fitted  up  elegantly, 
and  contain  the  finest  and  most  varied  stocks  of  goods 
to  be  found  anywhere  in  the  world.  In  almost  all 
these  establishments  the  prices  are  written  in  plain 
figures  on  the  articles,  and  the  clerks  are  not  allowed 
to  deviate  from  them.  Elevators  connect  the  various 
floors,  and  convey  purchasers  from  story  to  story,  thus 
saving  them  the  fatigue  of  climbing  the  stairs.  Each 
fioor  is  in  charge  of  a  manager,  who  directs  customers 
to  the  counters  where  the  goods  they  wish  to  pur- 
chase are  sold.  No  one  is  urged  to  buy,  but  all  the 
goods  are  readily  shown  to  those  who  desire  to  exam- 
ine them.  Articles  purchased  are  promptly  forwarded 
to  the  residences  of  buyers,  and  every  effort  is  made 
to  render  the  task  of  shopping  pleasant.  All  the  while 
the  customers  are  under  the  constant  but  unseen  sur- 
veillance of  detectives,  and  so  perfect  is  this  system 
that  shoplifting  is  rare. 

The  principal  retail  firms  possess  large  and  magnif- 


558 


NEW  YORK. 


icent  buildings,  which  are  among  the  chief  ornaments 
of  the  city.  The  rriost  imposing  of  these  are  the 
buildings  of  A.  T.  Stewart  &  Co.,  the  Domestic  Sew- 
ing-Machine  Company,  Arnold,  Constable  &  Co., 
Lord  &  Taylor,  and  Tiffany  &  Co.,  the  last  being  the 
principal  jewelry  house  of  the  country. 

Stewart's  is  the  best-known  establishment  in  New 
York.  The  building  is  a  handsome  iron  structure  five 
stories  in  height,  and  occupies  an  entire  block,  as  has 
been  described.  The  first  floor  is  devoted  to  the  sale 
of  miscellaneous  goods,  each  class  having  its  separate 
department.  It  is  generally  thronged  with  buyers, 
and  presents  a  busy  scene.  It  contains  loo  counters, 
the  aggregate  length  of  which  is  5000  feet.  The  sec- 
ond floor  is  for  the  sale  of  ready-made  clothing,  suits 
for  ladies,  furs,  upholste»-y,  &c. ;  the  third  floor  is 
devoted  to  carpets ;  and  the  other  flqors  to  the  work 
rooms  of  the  establishment.  The  number  of  superin- 
tendents, salesmen,  and  other  persons  employed  in 
selling  and  handling  goods  is  about  1 700.  The  busi- 
ness transacted  is  enormous,  and  averages  about 
$60,000,  and  has  reached  as  high  as  $87,000,  a  day. 
The  greater  part  of  the  sales  is  made  between  noon 
and  five  o^clock  p.  m.,  and  between  those  hours  the 
vast  store  is  thronged.  Everything  that  can  be 
desired  in  the  way  of  dry-goods,  millinery,  furnishing 
goods,  and  the  like,  is  to  be  found  here.  The  sales 
of  silk  amount  to  about  $1 5,000  daily ;  dress  goods  to 
$6000;  laces  to  $2000;  shawls  to  $2500;  velvets  to 
$2000;  gloves  to  $1000;  hosiery  to  $600;  embroid- 
eries to  $1000;  carpets  to  $5500;  and  other  goods 
in  proportion. 


OVERCROWDING  OF  THE  CITY 


5dd 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

TENEMENT  HOUSES. 

DENSITY  OF  lOPULATlON  IN  NEW  YORK — NUMBER  OF  TENEMENT  HOUSES  AND  INHABITANTS 
— CAUSBS  OF  LIVING  IN  TENEMENT  HOUSES — HIGH  RENTS — HOMES  OF  THE  WORKING 
CLASS — HOPES  FOR  THE  FUTURE — VARIETIES  OF  TENEMENT  HOUSES — A  SPECIMEN — CLOSB 
PACKING — RENTS   OF   APARTMENTS — EVILS    OF  THE  SYSTEM. 

The  immense  population  of  New  York,  and  the 
scarcity  of  house  room  in  the  thickly  settled  portions 
of  the  city,  have  given  rise  to  a  system  of  dwellings 
fortunately  unknown  in  other  cities  of  the  country. 
These  are  known  as  tenement  houses,  and  are  simply 
vast  barracks,  inhabited  by  from  two  to  twent}-  or 
more  families.  The  average  number  of  families  to  a 
house  of  this  kind  is  eight.  The  city  contains  20,000 
tenement  houses,  inhabited  by  about  500,000  people, 
giving  an  average  of  2  5  persons  to  each  house.  Some 
of  these  buildings  are  very  small,  however,  and  con- 
tain only  two  or  three  families,  while  the  vast  rooker- 
ies of  the  most  densely  populated  wards  contain  from 
a  dozen  to  twenty-five  or  thirty  families.  In  one  of 
the  wards  of  the  city  the  population  is  over  290,000 
persons  to  the  square  mile,  and  in  several  it  is  nearly 
200,000  to  the  square  mile.  About  one-half  of  the 
people  of  the  Metropolis  live  in  these  houses,  and  the 
crowding  of  such  establishments  is  something  that 
must  be  witnessed  to  be  appreciated. 

Nor  is  this  crowding  of  the  population  the  result 
of  poverty.  Land  is  so  valuable  that  rents  are  enor- 
mously high.    But  few  persons  can  afford  the  luxury 


660 


NEW  YORK. 


of  a  separate  house,  and  workingmen,  with  famiUes 
dependent  upon  them,  cannot  think  of  having  their 
own  estabhshments.  They  must  be  content  to  share 
a  house  with  several  famiHes,  and  therefore  confine 
their  establishments  to  a  few  rooms.  They  are  com- 
pelled to  live  within  easy  reach  of  their  places  of  em- 
ployment, and  therefore  are  obliged  to  take  up  their 
quarters  in  the  most  thickly  settled  portions  of  the 
city.  Men  earning  handsome  wages  are  compelled 
to  live  in  these  vast  barracks,  because  the  rent  of  a 
single  house  ranges  from  $1000  upwards.  It  is  hoped 
that  the  Elevated  Railroads,  which  afford  rapid  transit 
between  the  upper  and  lower  sections  of  the  city,  will 
enable  the  better  class  of  working  people  to  possess 
homes  of  their  own  in  the  Harlem  district  and  on  the 
mainland,  where  rents  are  not  so  high,  and  so  thin  out 
the  tenement-house  population. 

The  city  contains  two  classes  of  tenement  houses. 
Those  of  the  first  class  are  occupied  by  well-to-do 
working  people ;  those  of  the  second  by  the  very 
poor.  The  first  are  large,  neat-looking  structures, 
and  are  kept  as  clean  as  the  great  number  of  people 
occupying  them  will  permit ;  the  second  are  wretched 
abodes  of  misery,  and  often  of  vice  and  crime.  The 
better  class  tenement  houses  are  constructed  for  the 
purposes  to  which  they  are  put;  the  second  class  are 
simply  buildings  intended  originally  for  a  single  family, 
but  now  occupied  by  as  many  as  they  will  contain. 
These  houses  are  very  profitable  to  their  owners,  and 
some  of  them  pay  as  much  as  thirty  .per  cent,  on  the 
money  invested  in  them.  Some  of  the  central  wards 
of  the  city  contain  whole  squares,  and,  indeed,  many 


A  SPECIMEN  TENEMENT  HOUSE. 


561 


consecutive  squares,  built  up  with  houses  of  this  kind. 
One  of  these,  which  is  but  a  specimen  of  many,  has 
a  frontage  of  50  feet  and  a  depth  of  250  feet.  On 
each  side  of  it  is  an  alleyway  running  the  whole  length 
of  the  building,  excavated  to  the  level  of  the  cellar, 
and  arched  over  on  a  level  with  the  street,  with  grat- 
ings in  the  flags  with  which  it  is  paved  to  admit  light 
and  air  to  the  vaults  below.  In  these  vaults  are  placed 
the  water-closets  of  the  house,  which  are  drained  into 
the  street  sewers.  The  water-closets  are  without  doors, 
and  the  vapors  and  gases  from  them  rise  through  the 
gratings  into  the  alleyways  above,  and  thence  find 
their  way  into  the  house.  The  building  is  five  stories 
in  height,  and  has  a  fiat  roof.  The  v/indows  on  the 
sides  open  into  the  alleys  and  receive  the  poisonous 
gases  which  arise  from  them.  Water  is  laid  on  each 
fioor.  The  apartments  for  a  family  consist  of  a  kitchen, 
which  is  also  the  living,  or  sitting-room,  and  one  or 
more  bed-rooms.  The  rooms  are  dark,  badly  venti- 
lated, and  into  the  most  of  them  the  sun  never  shines. 
The  house  contains  126  families,  and  has  a  population 
of  700  souls.  As  may  be  supposed,  it  is  dirty,  and 
full  of  bad  smells.  In  the  winter  time  it  is  close  and 
unhealthy,  and  in  the  summer  the  heat  of  so  many 
cooking-stoves  renders  it  almost  unbearable.  What 
life  is  in  one  of  these  houses  the  reader  can  easily 
imagine.  Yet  each  family  pays  for  its  apartment  an 
annual  rental  which,  in  Baltimore,  Philadelphia,  and 
other  cities  of  the  country,  would  secure  it  a  separate 
and  comfortable  house.  From  $10  to  $30  a  month  is 
the  average  rental  of  a  suite  of  rooms  in  a  tenement 
house.    The  building;  we  have  described  is  not  an  ex- 


562 


NEW  YORK. 


ception  to  the  general  rule.  The  city  contains  whole 
blocks  of  such  structures.  There  are  many  single 
blocks  containing  more  people  than  some  of  our  most 
thriving  towns.  The  Fourth  Ward,  covering  an  area 
of  83  acres,  contains  21,015  inhabitants;  the  Eleventh, 
with  an  area  of  196  acres,  has  68,779  inhabitants;  the 
Seventh,  with  an  area  of  no  acres,  contains  50,066 
inhabitants;  and  the  Seventeenth,  with  an  area  of  331 
acres,  contains  104,895  inhabitants.  In  1880,  the  fol- 
lowing cities  contained  populations  as  follows :  Provi- 
dence, R.  I.,  104,760;  Richmond,  Va.,  63,243;  Colum- 
bus, Ohio,  51,650;  Hartford,  Conn.,  42,560;  Taunton, 
Mass.,  21,252;  and  Elmira,  N.  Y.,  20,646.  By  con- 
trasting the  area  of  these  cities  with  that  of  the  wards 
named  above,  the  reader  will  be  able  to  form  some 
idea  of  the  terrible  overcrowding  of  this  portion  of 
New  York. 

The  tenement  houses  being  so  greatly  overcrowded, 
it  is  impossible  to  keep  them  clean,  and  the  majority  of 
them  are  in  bad  repair.  The  mortality  of  these  houses 
is  fearful.  In  the  summer  season  they  are  hot-beds  of 
disease,  and  children  die  in  them  at  a  fearful  rate.  It 
is  impossible  for  the  authorities  to  enforce  sanitary 
regulations  in  these  buildings,  and  in  spite  of  every 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  Board  of  Health  to  check 
the  evil,  the  death-rate  continues  fearfully  high. 

The  overcrowding  of  the  tenement  houses  renders 
them  nurseries  of  vice  and  crime.  Children  of  all 
kinds  are  thrown  together,  and  learn  vicious  ways, 
which  develop  as  they  grow  older  into  worse  traits. 
Privacy  is  impossible,  and  the  various  families  may  be 
said  to  Hve  almost  in  common. 


THE  HOME  OF  VICE  AND  CRIME, 


563 


CHAPTER  XLIIL 

JERRY  McAULEY's  MISSION. 

VMn  tTMBF— THB  HISSIOK— ITS  SUCCESS— JERRY  k'aUI.sY— THB  RBFORMCD  THTKV— lOHL 
M'AUJ^— THB  PRAYBR-MEBTINGS— THB  AUDIHNCK— JERRY  U'AXTLBY'S  UBTUOOSf— A 
SCBNB  AT  A  PRAYBR-MEBTING — A  WONDERFUL  WORK. 

In  one  of  the  vilest  sections  of  Water  street,  right 
under  the  shadow  of  the  anchorage  of  the  great  East 
River  Bridge,  is  a  substantial  but  modest-looking,' 
brick  building,  known  as  "316  Water  street."  Over 
the  door  hangs  a  lantern  bearing  the  inscription, 
''Jerry  McAuley's  Prayer- Meetings."  When  the 
shades  of  night  come  on,  and  the  rays  of  the  lantern 
shine  out,  revealing  the  legend  inscribed  upon  it,  they 
illuminate  a  region  full  of  vice,  crime,  and  suffering. 
The  street  is  lined  with  long  rows  of  rum-shops,  rat- 
pits,  low-down  gambling  dens,  and  thieves'  dives  of 
the  worst  description.  Here  and  there  are  dance- 
houses,  brilliantly  lighted,  and  ornamented  with  gaudy 
transparencies.  Strains  of  music  float  out  into  the 
night  air,  and  about  the  doors  and  along  the  side- 
walks stand  groups  of  hideous  women,  waiting  to 
entice  sailors  into  these  hells,  where  they  are  made 
drunk  with  drugged  liquors,  robbed  of  their  money 
and  valuables,  and  turned  helpless  into  the  streets. 
Groups  of  drunken  and  foul-mouthed  men  and  boys 
lounge  about  the  street,  bandying  vile  jests  with  the 
•women,  and  often  insulting  respectable  passers-by. 
High  over  all  this  sea  of  wretchedness  and  sin,  Jerry 


5(:4 


NEW  YORK. 


McAuley's  lantern  shines  out  like  a  beacon  light,  the 
only  sign  of  cheer  and  hope  to  be  seen.  If  you  listen 
you  will  hear,  sounds  of  music  in  this  building  also, 
but  the  strains  are  of  praise  and  thanksg'ving--strange 
sounds  to  be  heard  in  such  a  neighborhood.' 

Some  years  ago  a  wretched  frame  building,  that 


JERRY  m'auLEY. 


had  long  been  used  for  the  vilest  purposes,  occupied 
the  site  of  the  present  edifice.  It  had  been  for  many 
years  notorious  as  a  dance-house  and  rum-shop,  and 
was  a  terror  to  the  neighborhood  and  a  marked  house 
to  the  police.  Great  was  the  surprise  of  Water  street, 
therefore,  when,  one  night  in  October,  1872,  the  place. 


THE  REFORMED  RIVER  PIRATE. 


565 


after  having  been  closed  for  a  short  time,  was  opened  ^ 
as  a  Christian  mission,  and  devoted  to  saving-  the 
drunken  and  sinful  dwellers  in  this  section  of  the  city. 
Greater  still  was  the  surprise  when  it  was  announced 
that  the  Mission  was  to  be  conducted  by  Jerry  McAu- 
ley  and  his  wife.  The  work  was  slow  at  first,  but  it 
prospered,  and  at  length  assumed  such  proportions 
that  the  old  building  was  found  inadequate  to  the  pur- 
poses of  the  Mission,  and,  in  1876,  was  torn  down 
and  the  present  edifice  erected  in  its  place. 

The  surprise  of  Water  street  at  seeing  Jerry  McAu- 
ley  and  his  wife  in  its  midst  in  the  guise  of  missionaries 
was  not  unnatural.  Jerry  was  a  tall,,  strapping  Irish- 
man, and  had  been  for  years  one  of  the  most  notori- 
ous roughs  in  the  city.  He  was  a  river  thief  by  pro- 
fession, and  a  habitual  drunkard.  He  had  committed 
every  crime  except  that  of  murder,  and  for  years  had 
been  the  terror  of  Water  street.  At  last  he  was 
arrested  for  one  of  his  numerous  offences,  and  was 
sentenced  to  a  term  in  Sing  Sing  prison.  While  there 
he  began  to  reflect  upon  his  past  life,  experienced  a 
change  of  heart,  and  embraced  religion.  Upon  being 
released  from  prison,  he  returned  to  New  York,  and 
sought  out  the  woman  who  had  for  a  number  of  years 
lived  with  him,  and  been  his  partner  in  sin  and  crime. 
They  were  married,  and  began  to  devote  themselves 
to  the  work  of  saving  the  souls  of  the  wretched  crea- 
tures among  whom  their  lot  had  been  formerly  cast. 
The  change  in  both  was  simply  miraculous.  They 
took  the  old  dance-house  in  Water  street,  made  it  as 
neat  as  their  means  would  admit,  and  then  began 
their  good  work.  Their  meetings  were  well  attended ; 


566 


NEW  YORK. 


many  came  to  see  their  old  companions  in  their  new 
characters,  and  others  to  make  fun ;  but  the  earnest- 
ness of  the  devoted  pair  had  its  effect,  and  the  curious 
and  the  scoffers  became  converts  in  their  turn.  Little 
by  little  assistance  began  to  be  held  out  to  the  Mis- 
sion, and  at  length  a  strong  body  of  Christian  men 
and  women  came  to  its  aid  with  money,  a  new  build- 
ing was  erected,  and  the  Mission  placed  upon  a  sound 
and  safe  basis. 

Whatever  the  lives  of  Jerry  McAuley  and  his  wife 
may  have  been  previous  to  their  reformation,  they 
have  nobly  atoned  for  them  in  the  Christian  work  they 
have  done  in  the  past  nine  years.  They  have  gone 
among  the  outcasts  and  the  wretched,  the  sinful  and 
the  degraded,  and  have  rescued  them  from  their  vile 
ways,  brought  them  to  a  saving  knowledge  of  God 
and  his  religion,  and  have  started  them  in  a  new  and 
better  course  of  life.  Their  efforts  often  fail ;  many  of 
their  converts  relapse  into  their  old  ways,  but  the 
number  of  those  who  are  actually  reformed  is  surpris- 
ingly large,  and  the  lasting  results  achieved  are  great 
and  glorious.  No  one,  however  wretched,  however 
far  gone  in  sin,  is  ever  turned  away ;  a  helping  hand 
is  extended  to  all,  and  the  vilest  outcast  is  made  to 
feel  welcome  and  confident  that  there  is  still  a  chance 
for  salvation  left  him. 

There  is  no  more  interesting  sight  to  be  witnessed 
in  the  great  city  than  one  of  Jerry  McAuley's  prayer- 
meetings.  The  audience  is  made  up  of  men  and 
women  of  various  classes,  including  many  who  avoid 
other  Christian  agencies,  who  have  never  been  in  a 
place  of  prayer,  or  heard  the  Bible  read  except  by  the 


jerry's  prayer  meetings.  567 

prison  chaplain ;  "  poor,  friendless  men  who  have  drifted 
into  New  York  from  all  parts  of  the  world  ;  drunkards, 
thieves,  roughs,  and  discharged  convicts  ;  sailors,  boat- 
men, longshoremen,  and  many  prodigal  sons  who  have 
wandered  away  from  Christian  mothers  and  have  fallen 
into  crime  and  beggary." 


MRS.  m'aULEY. 


The  meetings  are  held  in  the  chapel,  which  is  a 
pleasant,  well-lighted  and  ventilated  room,  on  the  first 
floor.  Near  the  entrance  hangs  a  sign,  inscribed  as 
follows  : — "  The  use  of  tobacco  in  this  room  is  strictly 
forbidden;"  and  near  the  upper  end  of  the  room  is 
another,  bearing  this  inscription  :  — "  Speakers  are 


568  NEW  YORK. 

Strictly  limited  to  one  minute."  The  room  is  neatly 
furnished,  and  is  provided  with  a  cabinet  organ,  at 
which  Mrs.  McAuley,  a  nice,  lady-like  woman,  with  a 
sweet,  Madonna-like  face,  earnest,  yet  marked  with  the 
sadness  of  past  trouble,  presides. 

The  genius  of  the  place  is  Jerry  McAuley,  the  re- 
formed criminal,  and  now  the  powerful  messenger  of 
the  Gospel  to  the  lost  ones  of  the  great  city.  He  is  a 
tall,  well-built  man,  with  sharp  eyes,  a  long,  sharp 
nose,  and  a  quick,  decisive  manner.  He  is  thoroughly 
in  earnest  in  his  work,  and  having  been  one  of  the 
class  to  whom  he  appeals,  understanding  their  charac- 
ter and  habits,  being  intense  in  his  purposes,  and  ani- 
mated by  a  desire  to  win  sinners  to  the  Saviour,  he  is 
able  to  speak  with  effectual  power  to  these  rough 
men,  who  listen  respectfully  to  his  words,  and  are 
attracted  by  those  personal  peculiarities  that  fit  him 
for  his  work — a  work  which  is  unique,  and  has  become 
one  of  the  most  important  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
great  city.  Before  the  meeting  begins,  and  through- 
out its  progress,  he  is  all  through  the  hall,  attending 
to  every  arrangement,  trying  to  make  every  one  com- 
fortable, and  giving  his  warmest  welcomes  to  the  most 
degraded  of  all  who  seek  admittance.  His  programme 
of  the  exercises  of  the  evening,  is  thus  stated  in  his 
own  energetic  way  : — We  start  the  meetin'  sharp  at 
half-past  seven  ;  the  man  who  reads  the  Bible  takes 
till  a  quarter  to  eight — if  he  is  a  long-winded  feller  l;e 
stretches  it  out  till  eight — then  I  take  hold  of  it,  shut 
the  speeches  down  to  one  minute,  and  on  we  go  for 
three-quarters  of  an  hour  with  testimonies."  This 
programme  is  rigidly  adhered  to.    Jerry  knows  the 


JERRY  McAULEY  ON  DUTY. 


569 


value  of  brevity,  and,  therefore,  rigidly  enforces  the 
one-minute  rule. 

The  audience  drops  in  in  little  "gangs,"  as  Jerry 
calls  them,  and  by  half-past  seven  the  chapel  is  well- 
filled.  As  the  clock  points  the  half  hour,  Jerry  opens 
his  hymn-book,  and  calls  out  in  a  strong,  cheery  voice, 
"sixty-nine! "  and  thereupon  the  singing  begins,  led 
by  the  cabinet  organ  and  the  woman  whose  voice  was 
once  raised  only  in  blasphemy.  If  the  singing  is  a  lit- 
tie  faint,  Jerry  spurs  up  his  audience  by  calling  out, 
"  Don't  be  afraid  of  your  voices,  boys  ;  sing  out  with 
your  whole  soul ; "  and  generally  the  volume  of  praise 
grows  stronger  and  fuller.  The  singing  over,  a  rough, 
but  cleanly-looking  young  man,  rises  from  his  seat, 
and  goes  timidly  to  the  platform,  where  he  kneels  for 
a  moment  in  prayer.  Then,  rising,  he  opens  the  Bible, 
and  reads  the  chapter  for  the  evening,  after  which  he 
gives  in  his  rough  way  his  own  experience. 

The  testimonies  roll  in  as  the  meeting  progresses,, 
strange  and  startling  many  of  them,  some  so  quaintly 
worded  that  they  would  provoke  a  smile  in  a  more 
"  respectable  "  prayer-meeting,  but  all  given  with  an 
earnestness  and  pathos  that  is  wonderful.  Sometimes 
a  drunken  sailor  will  endeavor  to  interrupt  the  meet- 
ing. One  night  a  man  of  this  kind  staggered  to  his 
feet,  and  hiccoughed,    Jesus  saves  me,  too." 

"That  ain't  so,"  replied  Jerry,  emphatically;  "Jesus 
don't  save  any  man  that  is  full  of  gin." 

And  down  sits  the  sailor,  utterly  abashed  by  the 
prompt  retort. 

Jerry  acts  as  his  own  policeman,  and  meets  all  at- 
tempts at  disturbance  on  the  ground.    The  offenders 


570 


NEW  YORK. 


are  seized  in  his  powerful  grasp,  led  to  the  door,  and 
put  into  the  street. 

As  the  testimonies  are  given,  the  audience  is  deeply 
moved.  Yonder  is  a  street-walker,  kneeling  on  the 
floor,  with  her  face  hid  in  her  hands,  sobbing  bitterly. 
Jerry  smiles,  beckons  his  wife,  and  the  good  woman 
goes  down  to  the  poor  outcast,  and  whispers  to  her 
despairing  soul  the  only  words  of  hope  she  has  ever 
heard.  Others  give  evidence  of  their  desire  to  be 
saved,  and  the  meeting  devotes  itself  to  prayer  for 
them.  Jerr}^'s  keen  eye  sweeps  the  room,  and  at 
once  detects  the  hesitating.  In  an  instant  he  is  at 
their  side,  devoting  his  rude  but  powerful  eloquence 
to  urging  them  to  take  the  decisive  step  then  and  there. 
There  is  something  wonderfully  encouraging  in  his 
strong,  hearty  grasp  of  the  hand,  and  in  his  earnest 
tones.  "  I  was  worse  than  you,"  he  says ;  "  but  the 
good  Lord  saved  me,  I  know  there  is  a  chance  for 
you.    Take  hold  of  it,  my  boy,  right  now." 

When  nine  o'clock  strikes,  there  is  a  hymn,  a  short 
prayer,  and  then  Jerry  dismisses  the  meeting  with  a 
hearty  invitation  to  come  again  the  next  night. 


THE  THEATRES 


571 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

METROPOLITAN  AMUSEMENTS. 

SVB  PRINCtPAL  THEATRES — METROPOLITAN  AUDIENCES — EXPENSES  OF  A  FIRST-CLASS  THBATRK 
— SALARIES  OF  ACTORS — PRODUCTION  OF  NEW  PLAYS — LONG  RUNS — "BOOTh's"  THKATRB 
A  MODEL  ESTABLISHMENT — THE  GRAND  OPERA  HOUSE — "  WALLACk'S  " — "  THE  UNION 
SQUARE  " — "  DALY'S  " — THE  ACADEMY  OF  MUSIC — VARIETY  THEATRES — THE  GRANB 
SUKB'S  theatre — NEGRO  MINSTRELS — CONCERTS — LECTURES. 

In  nothing  does  New  York  show  its  Metropolitan 
character  more  strikingly  than  in  its  amusements.  At 
the  head  of  these  stand  the  theatres,  which  are  more 
numerous  and  magnificent  than  in  any  American  cityo 
The  Metropolis  contains  fifteen  first-class  theatres. 
They  are  as  follows  : — The  Academy  of  Music,  Wal- 
lack's,  the  Union  Square,  Daly's,  the  Madison  Square, 
the  Park,  Booth's,  the  Grand  Opera  House,  Haverley's 
Fourteenth  Street,  the  Fifth  Avenue,  the  Standard, 
the  Germania,  Harrigan  &  Hart's,  the  Thalia,  and  the 
Bijou  Opera  House.  Besides  these  are  a  number 
of  second-class  and  variety  establishments,  and  the 
third-rate  theatres  of  the  Bowery  and  other  sections 
of  the  city.  They  are  open  from  the  early  fall  until 
the  late  spring,  with  the  exception  of  the  Academy  of 
Music,  which  is  devoted  chiefly  to  Italian  Opera,  of 
which  only  brief  seasons  are  given.  They  are  liberally 
V  supported  by  the  residents  of  the  city,  and  receive  an 
immense  patronage  from  the  great  throng  of  strangers 
constantly  in  New  York.  It  is  estimated  that  from 
$30,000  to  $40,000  are  nightly  expended  in  the  city 


572 


NEW  YORK. 


in  the  purchase  of  theatre  tickets,  or  from  seven  to 
eight  million  dollars  in  a  single  season. 

The  Metropolitan  theatres  are  the  handsomest  and 
best  appointed  in  the  United  States,  and  produce  their 
plays  with  a  splendor  and  completeness  of  detail  un- 
known in  any  other  American  city.  The  companies 
are  generally  made  up  of  actors  and  actresses  who 
stand  at  the  head  of  their  profession.  A  Metropoli- 
tan audience  is  hard  to  please,  and  is  keenly  critical, 
as  many  would-be  managers  have  learned  to  their 
cost.  It  will  not  tolerate  sham,  but  is  ever  ready 
to  encourage  and  reward  true  merit.  To  become  a 
favorite  on  the  New  York  stage  is  to  win  a  proud  po- 
sition in  J:he  dramatic  profession,  and  one  that  will 
command  success  in  any  part  of  the  country.  The 
leading  theatres  retain  their  players  as  long  as  they 
will  stay,  and  many  old  actors  still  delight  the  audiences 
of  the  city  who  conferred  the  same  pleasure  upon  the 
fathers  and  mothers  of  their  present  patrons. 

The  expenses  of  a  first-class  theatre  in  New  York 
are  enormous.  The  rent  runs  up  into  the  tens  of 
thousands  per  annum,  and,  besides  the  actors  and 
actresses,  anywhere  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  people 
are  employed  in  each  establishment  in  various  capaci- 
ties. The  salaries  of  the  company  are  liberal,  and  the 
leading-man  and  leading-lady  receive  very  high  pay. 
Wallack  pays  Miss  Rose  Coghlan,  his  leading-lady, 
^300  a  week,  for  forty  weeks  in  the  year ;  Thorne,  the 
leading-man  at  the  Union  Square,  receives  $200  a 
week ;  and  John  Gilbert,  the  best  actor  in  Wallack's 
company,  receives  $125  a  week.  These  are  high 
figures.    A  salary  of  ^100  a  week  is  a  iarge  one,  and 


EXPENSES  OF  A  FIRST-CLASS  THEATRE.  573 

many  of  the  best  artists  in  stock  companies  work 
like  beavers  for  from  ^50  to  $85  a  week.  It  all  de- 
pends upon  the  merit  of  an  actor  and  his  popularity 
w^ith  the  public.  An  actor  or  actress  who  can  draw 
full  houses,  and  draw  them  steadily,  whatever  the  at- 
traction may  consist  in,  is  always  certain  of  high  pay. 
Out  of  their  salaries  they  must  provide,  in  some  thea- 
•  tres,  their  costumes  and  other  stage  properties ;  in 
other  establishments  the  manager  pays  half  of  the 
cost  of  the  female  costumes ;  and  in  one  or  two  these 
are  provided  by  the  house.  Now,  as  a  large  part  of 
the  attraction  of  a  piece  lies  in  the  magnificent  toilettes 
of  the  actresses,  the  reader  can  understand  what  a 
heavy  expense  the  player  or  the  management  is  under 
in  providing  them. 

In  the  production  of  a  new  piece,  new  scenery  and 
stage  appointments  must  be  provided,  and  a  first-class 
house  must  expend  many  thousand  dollars — often  sev- 
eral  tens  of  thousands — before  the  curtain  rises  upon 
the  first  performance.  The  risk  is  very  great,  and 
only  the  long  runs  which  a  successful  play  is  sure  to 
enjoy,  would  justify  a  manager  in  assuming  it.  The 
enormous  number  of  theatre-goers  in  the  city  enables 
a  manager  to  keep  a  popular  piece  on  the  boards  for 
months.  These  long  runs  are  extremely  profitable  to 
the  management,  and  enable  the  players  to  perfect 
themselves  in  their  roles  to  a  degree  impossible  in 
other  cities.  The  two  most  profitable  theatres  in 
New  York  are  Wallack's  and  the  Union  Square. 
They  have  the  best  companies,  put  their  plays  on  the 
stage  more  carefully  and  elaborately  than  the  other 


574 


NEW  YORK. 


houses,  and  have  a  steady,  assured  patronage  upon 
which  they  can  depend  with  certainty. 

The  handsomest  theatre  in  the  city  is  "  Booth's,'*  at 
the  south-east  corner  of  Sixth  avenue  and  Twenty- 
third  street.  It  is  a  beautiful  granite  edifice,  in  the 
renaissance  style,  and  is  one  of  the  largest  of  the  city 
theatres.  The  interior  is  beautifully  decorated,  is 
provided  with  three  galleries,  and  will  seat  over  2000 
persons.  The  seats  are  so  arranged  that  every  one 
commands  a  perfect  view  of  the  stage.  The  frescos 
are  far  superior  to  any  used  in  the  decoration  of  an 
American  theatre,  and  are  genuine  works  of  art.  The 
stage  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  in  the  world ;  the 
scenery  is  moved  by  machinery ;  and  the  changes  of 
scene  are  executed  with  such  quietness  and  ease,  that 
they  seem  like  a  series  of  dissolving  views. 

The  theatre  was  built  by  Edwin  Booth,  between 
1867  and  1869,  and  was  designed  by  him  to  be  the 
most  sumptuous  temple  of  the  drama  in  America. 
It  was  opened  in  January,  1869,  and  for  several  sea- 
sons was  conducted  by  Mr.  Booth.  Here  he  pro- 
duced his  plays  upon  a  scale  of  magnificence  never 
witnessed  before  even  in  New  York — his  Shakespear- 
ian revivals  being  among  the  events  of  the  dramatic 
history  of  the  country.  This  entailed  upon  the  estab- 
lishment a  degree  of  expense  which  proved  Mr. 
Booth's  financial  ruin,  and  he  was  at  length  compelled 
to  retire  from  the  management.  His  successors  have 
been  but  little  more  fortunate.  The  necessary  ex- 
penses of  the  house  are  very  great,  and  the  theatre- 
goers of  New  York  have  not  supported  the  efforts  of 
the  successive  managers  as  they  have  deserved. 


676 


NEW  YORK. 


The  Grand  Opera  House,  at  the  north-west  corner 
of  Eighth  avenue  and  Twenty-third  street,  ranks  next 
to  "Booth's"  in  magnificence.  It  is  a  massive  struc- 
ture of  white  marble,  erected  by  the  late  Samuel  N. 
Pike,  of  Cincinnati,  as  an  opera  house,  about  fourteen 
years  ago.  The  location  was  unfortunate,  however, 
and  the  opera  house  failed  as  a  pecuniary  venture 


THE  GRAND  OPERA  HOUSH- 


from  the  start.  In  1869  it  was  purchased  by  the  late 
James  Fiske,  Jr.  and  Jay  Gould.  The  front  building 
was  converted  into  offices  for  the  Erie  Railway,  which 
was  at  that  time  controlled  by  these  gentlemen.  Under 
Fiske's  management  the  Grand  Opera  House  was  the 
home  of  Opera  Bouffe.  The  theatre  is  situated  in  a* 
rear  building,  and  is  entered  from  Eighth  avenue  and 


wallack's  theatre. 


577 


Twenty-third  street  by  a  magnificent  lobby.  The  gal- 
leries are  approached  by  the  handsomest  stairway  in 
the  city.  The  theatre  is  beautifully  decorated,  will 
seat  over  2000  people,  and  is  provided  with  one  of 
the  largest  and  best-appointed  stages  in  the  world. 
Of  late  years  the  establishment  has  been  very  suc- 
cessful—  first-class  attractions  and  popular  prices 
being  the  policy  of  the  management. 

Wallack's  Theatre  is  par  excelle7ice  the  theati^e  of 
New  York.  It  is  situated  at  the  north-east  corner  of 
Broadway  and  Thirtieth  street,  and  is  one  of  the  most 
elegant  and  beautiful  houses  in  the  city.  It  was 
opened  in  December,  1881,  and  is  under  the  sole 
management  of  the  distinguished  actor,  Mr.  J.  Lester 
Wallack.  The  old  house,  at  the  corner  of  Broadway 
and  Thirteenth  street,  is  now  a  German  theatre. 
**  Wallack's"  is  the  favorite  house  with  resident  New 
Yorkers,  and  its  audiences  contain  a  larger  proportion 
of  city  people  than  those  of  any  of  its  rivals.  Its 
company  is  the  best  in  the  city,  is  largely  made  up 
of  old  favorites,  and  is  the  model  troupe  of  the 
country.  The  theatre  is  one  of  the  most  prosperous 
in  New  York,  and  naturally  so,  as  the  performances 
here  are  given  with  a  degree  of  perfection  unequalled 
anywhere  in  the  world. 

The  Union  Square  Theatre  is  situated  on  Fourteenth 
street,  three  doors  east  of  Broadway,  and  faces  Union 
Square.  It  was  originally  leased  and  fitted  up  by 
Sheridan  Shook,  as  a  variety  theatre.  In  1872  it  was 
opened  by  its  present  manager,  Mr.  A.  M.  Palmer,  as 
a  first-class  theatre,  and  devoted  chiefly  to  the  sensa- 
tional school.  Under  Mr.  Palmer's  management  it 
37 


578 


NEW  YORK. 


has  been  a  magnificent  success,  ranking  as  the  most 
profitable  house  in  the  Metropolis.  Its  receipts  for 
the  first  five  years  of  Mr.  Palmer's  management 
amounted  to  over  a  million  dollars.  The  auditorium 
is  very  beautiful,  and  the  plays  produced  here  are 
brought  out  upon  a  scale  of  unusual  magnificence. 

Daly's  Theatre  "  is  situated  on  Broadway,  opposite 
Wallack's.  It  is  very  handsome,  and  is  under  the 
management  of  Mr.  Augustin  Daly,  the  wdl-known 
dramatist.  It  is  devoted  to  the  sensational  school, 
and  ranks  amongf  the  most  successful  establishments 
in  the  city. 

The  Academy  of  Music  is  the  Opera  House  of  New 
York.  It  is  a  plain  building  of  red  brick,  situated  at 
the  corner  of  Fourteenth  street  and  Irving  Place.  It 
is  the  largest  theatre  in  the  city,  and  will  seat  2400 
people.  It  is  magnificently  decorated  in  crimson  and 
gold,  and  its  auditorium  equals  in  beauty  and  splendor 
that  of  any  European  opera  house.  The  scene  during 
opera  nights  is  very  brilliant,  the  audience  being  in 
full  dress,  and  comprising  a  thorough  representation 
of  the  elite  and  fashion  of  the  Metropolis. 

There  are  several  German  theatres  in  New  York, 
in  which  plays  and  opera  are  rendered  in  the  language 
of  the  Fatherland.  The  principal  of  these  are  The 
Germania,"  formerly  "Wallack's,"  at  the  corner  of 
Broadway  and  Thirteenth  street,  and  "  The  Thalia," 
formerly  "  The  Old  Bowery,"  situated  on  that  classic 
thoroughfare  below  Canal  street. 

Variety  theatres  are  numerous.  Of  these  the  prin- 
cipal are  Harrigan  &  Hart's,  on  Broadway,  opposite 
the  New  York  Hotel,  and  "Tony  Pastor's,"  on  Four- 


THE  GRAND  DUKE's  THEATRE. 


579 


teenth  street,  between  Third  and  Fourth  avenues. 
These  estabHshments  draw  large  audiences,  and  are 
very  profitable. 

The  third-class  theatres  are  situated  principally  on 
the  Bowery.  The  price  of  admission  is  low,  and  the 
performance  suited  to  the  tastes  of  the  audience.  The 
majority  of  these  remain  open  during  the  summer 
months. 

Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  dramatic  establish- 
ment' in  the  city  is  the  Grand  Duke's  Theatre,  or,  as 
it  is  better  known  to  its  patrons,  "  The  Grand  Dook 
Theatre,"  in  Water  street.  It  was  formerly  located  ir/ 
Baxter  street,  and  began  its  career  in  a  very  humble 
way ;  but  with  increasing  prosperity  removed  to  more 
suitable  quarters  in  Water  street.  The  prices  of  ad- 
mission are  as  follows: — Boxes,  25  cents;  orchestra, 
15  cents;  balcony,  10  cents;  gallery  5  cents.  The  es' 
tablishment  is  managed  and  controlled  by  boys,  and 
its  audiences  consist  chiefly  of  bootblacks,  newsboys, 
and  the  juvenile  denizens  of  the  east  side  of  the  city» 
ranging  in  age  from  three  to  20  years.  The  company 
is  composed  of  youths  yet  in  their  teens,  and  the  per^ 
formances  are  of  the  blood-and-thunder  order,  inter, 
spersed  with  "variety  acts"  of  a  startling  description., 
The  house  and  its  appointments  are  primitive,  and 
the  stage  and  scenery  equally  so.  The  orchestra  is 
made  up  of  amateur  musicians,  and  is  placed  out  of 
sight  at  the  back  of  the  stage.  The  footlights  consist 
of  six  kerosene  lamps  with  glass  shades.  Two  red- 
plush  lounges,  stuffed  with  saw-dust,  and  in  a  sad  state 
of  dilapidation,  serve  as  boxes ;  while  the  orchestra 
stalls  are  represented  by  half  a  dozen  two-legged 


580 


NEW  YORK. 


benches,  and  the  balcony  and  gallery  are  composed 
of  a  bewildering  arrangement  of  step-ladders  and  dry- 
goods  boxes.  The  manager  acts  as  his  own  police- 
man, and  enforces  order  by  punching  the  heads  of 
disorderly  spectators,  or  by  summarily  ejecting  them. 
The  performances  are  crude,  but  they  satisfy  the  au- 
dience, and  never  fail  to  draw  forth  a  storm  of  ap- 
plause, mingled  with  shrill  whistles,  cat-calls,  and  other 
vocal  sounds.  The  boys  are  satisfied.  What  more 
could  be  desired? 

Negro  minstrelsy  is  very  popular  in  New  York. 
The  Metropolis  has  a  warm  corner  in  its  heart  for 
the  "burnt-c  )rk  opera."  Several  handsome  minstrel 
halls  provide  nightly  entertainments  during  the  season, 
which  are  largely  attended  by  respectable  audiences. 

Concerts  and  lectures  are  also  well  patronized. 
Chickering's,  Steinway's,  and  Association  Halls,  and 
the  great  hall  of  the  Cooper  Union,  are  the  principal 
centres  of  these  attractions. 


POVERTY  IN  NEW  YORK.  581 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

LIFE  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

POVERTY  IN  NEW  YORK — THE  DESERVING  POOR — SAD  SCENES — "  RAGPICKERS*  ROW  " — HOW 
THE  RAGPICKERS  LIVE — AN  ITALIAN  COLONY  SOUR  BEKR  DRUNKENNESS  IN  "  RAGPICK- 
ERS* row" — BOTTLE  ALLEY— A  RELIC  OF  THE  FIVE  POINTS— A  WRETCHED  QUARTER — THB 
DWELLINGS  OF  POVERTY — THE  CELLARS — LIFE  BELOW  GROUND — BAXTER  STREET — THB 
CHINESEQUARTER— A  HOSPITAL  FOR  CATS. 

It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  be  poor  in  any  part  of  the 
world.  In  New  York  poverty  is  simply  a  living  death. 
The  city  is  full  of  suffering  and  misery.  Some  of  it  the 
wretched  people  who  endure  it  have,  no  doubt,  brought 
upon  themselves  by  drink,  by  idleness,  or  by  other 
faults,  but  a  large  majority  are  simply  unfortunate. 
Their  poverty  has  come  upon  them  through  no  fault 
of  their  own  ;  they  struggle  bravely  against  it,  and 
would  better  their  condition  if  they  could  only  find 
work.  They  are  held  down  by  an  iron  hand,  however, 
and  vainly  endeavor  to  rise  out  of  their  misery.  They 
dwell  in  wretched  tenement  houses,  in  the  cellars  of 
the  buildings  in  the  more  thickly  populated  parts  of 
the  city,  and  in  the  shanties  in  the  unsettled  regions 
lying  west  of  the  Central  Park.  A  few  families,  even 
in  the  midst  of  their  sufferings,  manage  to  keep  their 
poor  quarters  clean  and  neat,  but  the  majority  live  in 
squalor  and  filth.  But  litde  furniture  is  to  be  seen  in 
the  rooms  of  the  poor.  Everything  that  can  bring 
money  finds  its  way  to  the  pawnshops  for  the  means 
to  buy  food.  Many  of  these  wretched  homes  have 
been  stripped  of  all  their  contents  for  this  purpose. 


THE  HOMES  OF  THE  POOR. 


583 


A  cooklng-stove  sometimes  constitutes  the  only  article 
of  furniture  in  a  room,  and  the  inmates  sleep  upon  pal- 
lets on  the  floor.  Not  a  chair  or  table  is  to  be  seen. 
Often  there  is  no  stove,  and  the  only  food  that  passes 
the  lips  of  the  occupants  of  these  rooms  is  what  is 
given  to  them  in  charity. 

The. inmates  of  these  wretched  homes  are  often 
families  who  have  seen  better  days.  Once  the  husband 
and  father  could  give  those  dependent  upon  him  a 
comfortable  home,  and  provide  at  least  the  necessaries 
of  life.  But  sickness  came  upon  him,  or  death  took 
him,  and  the  little  family  was  deprived  of  his  support. 
In  vain  the  mother  sought  to  procure  work  to  keep 
her  children  in  comfort.  What  work  she  could  pro- 
cure was  at  intervals,  and  the  little  she  earned  barely 
sufficed  to  keep  a  roof  over  their  heads.  Little  by 
little  they  sank  lower,  until  poverty  in  its  worst  form 
settled  upon  them.  The  city  is  full  of  such  cases,  and 
the  Missionaries  whose  labors  among  the  poor  bring 
them  in  constant  contact  with  such  scenes  of  suffering, 
confess  that  they  do  not  know  how  these  poor  people 
manage  to  live.  Whole  blocks  are  filled  with  families 
on  the  verge  of  starvation,  suffering  every  kind  of 
privation.  They  would  gladly  work  if  they  could  get 
employment;  but  the  city  is  so  full  of  sufferers  like 
themselves  that  they  cannot  escape  from  their  wretched 
condition.  "  Bottle  Alley,"  "  Ragpickers'  Row,"  sec- 
tions of  the  Five  Points,  and  other  localities,  present 
scenes  of  misery  which  almost  surpass  belief  Many 
of  the  dwellers  here  pick  up  a  bare  subsistence  as 
street  scavengers.  They  gather  up  whatever  they  can 
find,  and  sell  it  to  the  junk  and  rag  stores  for  what- 


584 


NEW  YORK. 


ever  it  will  bring.  They  carry  the  mass  of  refuse 
they  collect  during  the  day  to  their  homes,  sort  it  out 
there,  spread  out  the  rags,  or  hang  them  up  to  dry, 
pjle  up  the  other  materials  in  the  yards  and  courts  of 
their  dwellings  until  they  can  dispose  of  them,  and 
thus  add  to  the  wretched  appearance  and  filth  of  their 
quarters. 

To  those  who  visit  these  sections  of  the  city,  each 
one  seems  worse  than  the  other.  "  Bottle  Alley " 
appears  as  bad  as  can  be,  yet  ''Gotham  Court"  seems 
in  some  respects  even  worse,  and  "Ragpickers'  Row" 
appears  more  wretched  still.  "Ragpickers'  Row"  is 
the  most  wretched  haunt  occupied  by  human  beings 
in  the  New  World.  It  is  easily  found.  You  leave 
the  Bowery  at  Bayard  street,  go  down  two  blocks  to 
Mulberry  street,  and  it  is  just  around  the  corner. 
Anybody  can  tell  you  where  the  ragpickers  live. 
There  is  no  mistaking  the  place.  "A  junkman's  cellar 
in  the  front  house  opens  widely  to  the  street,  and,  peer- 
ing down,  one  may  see  a  score  of  men  and  women 
half  buried  in  dirty  rags  and  paper,  which  they  are 
gathering  up  and  putting  into  bales  for  the  paper 
mills.  This  is  the  general  depot  to  which  the  rag- 
picker brings  his  odds  and  ends  for  sale  after  he  has 
assorted  them.  Just  as  we  emerge  from  this  cellar  a 
ragpicker,  heavily  laden,  passes  up  the  stoop  and 
enters  the  hall  above.  Following  him,  we  come  to  a 
small,  badly-paved  courtyard,  which  separates  the 
front  from  the  rear  houses.  Standing  here  and  look- 
ing up,  one  beholds  a  sight  that  cannot  be  imagined. 
Rags  to  the  right  of  him,  rags  to  the  left  of  him,  on 
all  sides  nothing  but  rags.    Lines  in  the  yard  draped 


CHINESE  QUARTER. 


DWELLINGS  OF  THE  RAGPICKERS.  585 

• 

with  them,  balconies  festooned  with  them,  fire-escapes 
decorated  with  them,  windows  hung  with  them  ;  in 
short,  every  available  object  dressed  in  rags — and 
such  rags !  of  every  possible  size,  shape,  and  color. 
Some  of  them  have  been  drawn  through  the  wash-tub 
to  get  off  the  worst  dirt,  but  for  the  most  part  they 
are  hung  up  just  as  they  were  taken  from  the  bags, 
and  left  to  the  rain  and  sun  to  cleanse  them.  The 
exterior  of  the  buildings  is  wretched  enough  ;  the  inte- 
rior equally  so.  Some  of  the  rooms,  on  a  cloudy  day, 
are  as  dark  as  dungeons,  with  but  little  light  coming 
in  through  the  dirty  window  on  the  front  and  the 
smaller  one  on  the  back.  Every  inch  of  the  ceiling 
and  walls  is  as  black  as  ink.  Against  this  dark  back- 
ground are  hung  unused  hats  of  odd  colors  and  still 
odder  shapes,  musical  instruments  of  various  kinds, 
pots,  kettles,  and  pans,  pokers,  joints  of  raw  meat 
pardy  consumed,  strings  of  Bologna  sausages,  the 
gowns  of  the  women,  and  great  pipes.  The  beds  are 
almost  invariably  covered  with  old  carpets,  that  still 
retain  some  bits  of  their  original  colors.  None  of  the 
chairs  have  backs,  and  hardly  any  of  them  have  four 
legs.  Seated  on  these  uncertain  supports,  or  oftener 
on  an  empty  soap-box  or  upturned  boiler,  are  the  rag- 
pickers. Every  man  in  the  house  has  his  hat  on, 
including  one  in  the  bed  napping  after  the  hard  work 
of  the  early  morning.  Not  one  bareheaded  man  is 
seen  anywhere.  Some  of  them  are  sitting  dreamily 
by  the  stove,  but  most  of  them  are  sorting  old  rags  or 
cutting  up  old  coats  and  pantaloons  that  are  too  rot- 
ten to  wear,  and  stuffing  the  bits  into  bags  for  the 
junk  dealer.    In  one  room  is  a  woman  plucking  a 


586  NEW  YORK. 

well-seasoned  goose  with  her  dirty  hands.  In  another 
place  four  men  are  seated  on  a  big  chest,  with  a  bit 
of  Bologna  sausage  in  one  hand  and  a  chunk  of  bread 
in  the  other,  making  their  noon-day  meal.  These 
same  hands  have  just  been  turning  over  the  filthy 
scraps  from  the  garbage-boxes  and  the  gutters.  On 
the  ground  floor  a  man,  who  looks  for  all  the  world 
like  a  brigand,  is  stirring  broth  over  the  fire,  and  the 
horrible  odor  of  rottenness  that  comes  from  the  pot 
is  enough  to  knock  one  down. 

"  None  of  the  members  of  this  Italian  colony  speak 
English,  except  here  and  there  one  who  has  mastered 
a  few  common  phrases ;  but  there  is  one  word  that 
all  of  them  understand,  and  that  is,  *  Beer.'  Here,  as 
in  '  Bottle  Alley,'  kegs  are  found  in  several  of  the 
rooms,  where  the  contents  are  dealt  out  at  a  cent  a 
glass.  It  is  nearly  all  sour  stuff,  given  to  the  men  for 
helping  on  the  brewers'  wagons,  or  sold  to  them  at 
the  end  of  the  day  for  a  mere  trifle.  *  Is  there  much 
drunkenness  there  ? '  asked  the  writer  of  a  police-offi- 
cer. *  Oh,  yes,  sir,'  he  replied ;  *  we  can  go  in  there, 
or  in  any  of  these  alleys,  any  night,  and  get  a  cart- 
load of  drunken  and  disorderlies.  We  don't  take 
them  one  by  one,  but  gather  them  up  in  a  hand-cart, 
and  wheel  them  off  to  the  station-house.  They  are 
not  usually  people  who  live  there,  but  bummers  who 
go  there  to  drink.'"  For  these  wretched  quarters  the 
people  who  live  in  them  pay  from  five  to  six  dollars  a 
month  rent  out  of  their  earnings,  which  rarely  exceed 
fifty  cents  a  day. 

"Bottle  Alley"  is  another  terrible  neighborhood.  It 
is  a  portion  of  the  old  Five  Points,  and  is  the  abode 


588 


NEW  YORK. 


of  misery  and  wretchedness.'  How  it  came  by  its 
name  no  one  knows,  but  it  was  probably  so  called 
because  of  the  trade  in  old  bottles  carried  on  by  a 
junkman  who  lives  in  its  rear.  The  alleyway,  about 
four  and  a  half  feet  wide,  is  cut  through  the  front 
house,  and,  running  back  about  thirty-five  feet,  it  opens 
into  a  little  courtyard  that  faces  the  rear  building.  It 
is  irregularly  paved  with  cobble-stones,  is  covered 
with  filth,  and  looks  as  though  it  might  be  a  passage- 
way leading  from  a  stable.  Standing  at  the  entrance, 
and  looking  in  from  the  street,  no  one  would  ever  dream 
that  the  tumble-down  building  in  the  rear  was  the 
abode  of  human  beings. 

The  cellar  is  a  queer  hole.  Passing  down  a  flight 
of  stone  steps  (every  one  of  which  is  out  of  joint 
with  its  neighbor)  and  through  a  dilapidated  doorway, 
you  stand  in  an  apartment  ten  by  fourteen  feet,  with  a 
ceiling  so  low  that  you  can  scarcely  stand  up  with  your 
hat  on.  One  of  these  walls  is  of  bare  logs,  the  others 
of  undressed  stone.  There  are  no  chairs  to  sit  on, 
only  a  few  rough  boxes.  An  Italian  family  of  five 
persons  occupies  the  room,  paying  five  dollars  a  month 
rent,  and  taking«lodgers — sometimes  eight  to  twelve — 
at  five  cents  a  night.  To  add  to  their  income  they 
sell  sour  beer  at  two  cents  a  pint  or  three  cents  a 
quart.  The  place  is  filthy  beyond  belief.  The  two 
upper  floors  are  not  quite  so  bad  ;  but  they  contain 
sights  that  baffle  description.  The  inmates  are  hud- 
dled together  in  disregard  of  cleanliaess  and  decency. 
The  rooms  are  dirty  and  the  air  is  foul.  The  food  is 
gathered  principally  from  the  garbage-boxes  of  the 
streets  or  from  the  offal  of  the  markets.    The  cook- 


LIFE  IN  THE  CELLARS. 


589 


ing  is  done  from  time  to  time,  and  fills  the  rooms  with 
horrible  odors.  There  are  no  bedsteads.  Filthy-look- 
ing mattresses  are  spread  on  the  floor,  or  on  boards 
placed  upon  supports.  The  inmates  never  undress, 
but  go  to  bed  with  their  clothes  on,  including  their 
boots  and  shoes.  The  children  are  wan  and  pinched 
in  appearance,  and  are  fi-ightfully  dirty.  What  wonder 
that  sickness  and  disease  hold  high  revel  here  ? 

Bad  as  is  the  lot  of  these  people,  they  at  least  exist 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  Those  who  dwell  in  the 
cellars  of  these  wretched  quarters  are  infinitely  worse 
off.  The  cellars  are  all  located  below  the  level  of  the 
pavements.  They  have  but  one  entrance,  and  a  sin- 
gle window  gives  light  and  ventilation.  There  is  no 
outlet  to  the  rear,  and  the  filth  of  the  streets  drains 
steadily  into  them.  They  are  occupied  by  the  poorest 
of  the  poor,  and  the  amount  of  misery  and  wretched- 
ness, of  dirt  and  squalor  to  be  witnessed  in  them  sur- 
passes description.  In  the  winter  time  a  stove  heats 
the  place,  and  renders  the  air  so  foul  and  stifling  that 
one  unaccustomed  to  it  cannot  breathe  in  the  room. 
Many  of  these  cellars  are  lodging-houses,  into  which 
the  wretched  outcasts  who  walk  the  streets  during 
the  day  crowd  for  shelter  at  night.  They  pay  from 
two  to  five  cents  for  a  night's  lodging,  and  sometimes 
as  many  as  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  persons  are 
packed  in  these  terrible  holes. 

Baxter  street  is  another  scene  of  misery,  and,  alas, 
of  crime.  It  is  the  centre  of  the  Italian  and  Chinese 
colonies.  Its  dwellings  are  equal  in  wretchedness  to 
those  described.  It  is  a  terrible  neighborhood,  and 
at  night  even  the  police  venture  into  it  with  caution. 


590 


NEW  YORK. 


Drunken  rows,  fights,  and  stabbing  affrays  are  ot 
nightly  occurrence. 

John  Chinaman  finds  his  home '  in  this  and  the 
neighboring  streets.  He  is  a  stranger  and  a  waif  in 
the  great  city,  but  he  has  managed  to  establish  a  dis- 
tinct quarter  here.  In  other  portions  of  the  city  are 
Chinese  laundries,  where  the  almond-eyed  Celestials 
conduct  the  business  of  washing  and  ironing  at  rates 
which  could  not  possibly  afford  a  decent  living  to. 
white  men ;  but  here  are  the  headquarters  of  the 
Mongolians,  their  gaming  houses  and  opium  dens. 
Though  peaceable  as  a  rule,  they  are  sometimes  very 
troublesome,  and  the  police  find  them  hard  customers 
to  handle.  They  are  inveterate  gamblers,  and  one  of 
their  chief  dissipations  consists  in  stupefying  them- 
selves  by  smoking  opium.  The  opium  dens  are  sim- 
ply dirty  rooms  provided  with  wooden  bunks,  in  which 
the  smokers  may  lie  and  sleep  off  the  effects  of  the 
terrible  drug.  Many  of  these  places  are  patronized 
by  white  people,  and  some  number  women  of  the 
lower  class  among  their  customers. 

One  of  the  greatest  curiosities  in  New  York  is  the 
"Hospital  for  Cats."  It  is  located  at  No.  170  Divi- 
sion street,  in  the  midst  of  the  tenement-house  section 
of  the  city,  and  is  conducted  by  Mrs.  Rosalia  Good- 
man, a  philanthropic  German  lady.  She  devotes  the 
greater  part  of  her  time  to  the  comfort  and  relief  of 
neglected  and  persecuted  felines,  and  is  quite  an  en- 
thusiast in  her  singular  avocation.  The  house  she 
occupies  is  a  three-story  wooden  structure,  dating  back 
to  the  Dutch  period  of  the  city.  She  has  lived  there 
for  a  number  of  years,  and  makes  a  comfortable  living 


THE  HOSPITAL  FOR  CATS. 


591 


by  renting  rooms,  retaining  two  for  herself  and  her 
cats.  Besides  many  pets  who  for  years  have  been 
kindly  cared  for,  the  family  is  being  constantly  in- 
creased by  the  addition  of  unfortunate  tabbies  whose 
wants  are  brought  to  the  notice  of  the  worthy  lady. 
Lean  and  hungry  cats,  prowling  around  in  search  of 
food ;  cats  who  bear  scars  received  by  having  boot- 
jacks, bricks,  and  crockery- ware  hurled  at  them  by 
unappreciative  hearers  while  they  were  performing  a 
midnight  concert ;  cats  who  come  out  with  broken 
limbs  and  disordered  fur  from  an  interview  with 
naughty  little  boys ;  cats  who  are  hungry  and  in  dis- 
tress, or  who  have  strayed  away  from  their  homes,  are 
brought  here,  and  are  kindly  receiyed  and  cared  for. 
So  well  is  the  idiosyncrasy  of  Mrs.  Goodman  known 
in  the  neighborhood,  that  whenever  one  of  her  neigh- 
bors finds  a  cat  in  distress,  it  is  taken  to  her,  and  is 
always  welcomed.  Her  room  presents  a  most  singu- 
lar appearance.  It  is  literally  filled  with  cats  of  all 
sizes  and  descriptions,  who  crowd  around  the  good 
lady,  perch  upon  her  shoulders,  and  nesde  in  her  arms. 
She  prepares  their  food  with  her  own  hands,  and  care- 
fully ministers  to  all  their  wants. 


692 


NEW  YORK, 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

THE  METROPOLITAN  PRESS. 

Tmm  DAILY  NEWSPAPERS — HOW  THE  LEADING  JOURNALS  ARE  CONDUCTED— THE  VARIOUS  Dlk 
PARTMENTS — PRINTING-HOUSE  SQUARE— EDITORS*  SALARIES— THE  "NEW  YORK  HERALD** 
— IHE  HERALD   OFFICE — JAMES    GORDON  BENNETT — CIRCULATION  OF  "THE  HERALD  "—• 
THE   TRIBUNE  "THE   TALL    TOWER  " — WHITELAW  REID — PROFITS  OF  "THE  TRIBUNk"— 
.#  '*  THE  TIMES,"   THE    LEADING  REPUBLICAN   JOURNAL — "  THE    SUN,"  A   LIVELY  PAPB»— 

CHARLES  A.  DANA — PROFITS  OF  "THE  SUN  " — THE  EVENING  PAPERS — WEEK  LIES— MAGA- 
ZINES. 

The  daily  newspapers  of  New  York  stand  at  the 
head  of  the  American  press.  There  are  12  leading 
daily  morning  papers ;  7  leading  daily  evening  papers ; 
10  semi-weekly  ;  nearly  200  weekly  papers  ;  and  about 
25  magazines  and  reviews  published  in  the  city.  These 
have  an  annual  circulation  of  over  one  thousand  mil- 
lion copies.  They  are  devoted  to  general  news,  poli- 
tics, literature,  science,  and  art — in  short,  to  every 
subject  that  can  interest  or  attract  the  people  of  the 
Metropolis  and  the  country  at  large.  They  employ 
millions  of  dollars  and  thousands  of  men  in  their  pub- 
lication, and  their  profits  vary  from  handsome  for- 
tunes to  smaller  sums  than  their  proprietors  desire 
to  see. 

The  morning  papers  are  those  which  give  tone  to 
the  Metropolitan  press,  and  are  the  models  after 
which  the  journals  of  other  American  cities  are  pat- 
terned. The  principal  are,  the  Herald,  Tribune, 
Times,  World,  and  Sun  in  English,  the  Staats  Zeitung 
in  German,  and  the  Courier  des  Etats  Ufiis  in  French. 
Some  of  these  papers  are  the  private  property  of 


THE  NEW  YORK  DAILIES. 


593 


their  publishers,  while  others  are  owned  by  joint-stock 
companies. 

The  management  of  the  daily  newspapers  is  admi- 
rably systematized,  and  its  various  departments  are 
conducted  with  the  regularity  and  precision  of  clock- 
work. Each  paper  is  in  charge  of  an  editor-in-chief, 
who  controls  its  general  policy,  and  assigns  his  vari- 
ous assistants  their  respective  tasks.  He  is  respon- 
sible to  the  proprietor  and  to  the  public  for  the  course 
of  the  journal,  and  sees  that  the  work  in  the  various 
departments  is  promptly  and  faithfully  performed. 
The  night  editor  occupies  one  of  the  most  responsible 
positions  in  the  office.  He  takes  charge  of  the  paper 
about  seven  or  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  con- 
trols it  until  it  goes  to  press,  about  three  or  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  He  receives  and  edits  the 
telegraphic  news,  and  the  reports  of  the  various 
reporters,  decides  what  shall  or  shall  not  appear  in 
the  paper,  a  task  which  often  requires  the  nicest  tact 
and  good  judgment,  and  sees  that  the  journal  is  prop- 
erly put  to  press.  Where  important  news  is  expected 
he  often  holds  the  paper  back  until  daylight.  The 
foreign  editor  has  charge  of  the  correspondence  from 
Europe  and  other  countries,  and  generally  writes  the 
editorials  relating  to  matters  abroad.  The  financial 
editor  prepares  the  financial  reports  showing  the  daily 
state  of  the  money  market,  and  writes  the  articles 
which  appear  in  the  paper  relating  to  such  matters. 
His  position  is  one  of  great  responsibility  and  impor- 
tance, as  he  must  be  thoroughly  informed  of  the  prog- 
ress of  events,  not  only  in  New  York,  but  in  the  vari- 
ous monetar)^  centres  of  this  country  and  Europe.  He 
38 


594 


NEW  YORK. 


plays  no  small  part  in  shaping  the  financial  policy  of 
the  country,  and  largely  influences  the  opinions  of  his 
readers.  His  duties  bring  him  in  constant  contact 
with  the  leading  bankers  and  brokers  of  the  country, 
and  afford  him  many  opportunities  of  making  money 
apart  from  his  salary.  The  city  editor  has  charge  of 
all  the  local  news  of  the  paper,  and  of  the  reporters 
and  their  work.  The  leading  dailies  employ  from 
twelve  to  thirty  or  forty  reporters,  and  expend  large 
sums  in  the  collection  of  news.  The  reporters  pre- 
sent  written  accounts  of  their  observations  to  the  city 
editor,  who  revises  them  and  puts  them  in  proper 
shape  for  the  paper.  He  assigns  each  reporter  his 
special  duties  every  morning,  noting  them  down  in  a 
book  kept  for  that  purpose.  Special  reporters  are 
assigned  to  duty  in  Brooklyn,  Jersey  City,  Newark^ 
and  the  surrounding  towns,  to  the  law  and  police 
courts,  public  meetings,  conventions,  parades,  churches, 
lectures,  and,  in  short,  to  every  source  from  which  news 
can  be  drawn.  Sometimes  very  little  work  is  to  be 
done ;  at  others  the  ^hole  force  of  the  office  is  busy, 
and  extra  help  has  to  be  engaged.  There  are  also 
musical  and  dramatic  critics,  who  write  the  reports  of 
the  prominent  performances  at  the  various  places  of 
amusements,  and  a  literary  editor,  who  reviews  the 
publications  sent  to  the  paper  for  notice,  and  gets  up 
the  literary  news. 

Each  daily  is  in  charge  of  a  publisher,  who  attends 
to  the  printing-office,  the  press-room,  the  counting- 
room,  and  the  various  matters  connected  with  the 
practical  work  of  getting  out  a  newspaper.   He  man- 


EDITORS*  SALARIES. 


595 


ages  all  its  financial  matters,  and  upon  his  energy  de- 
pends the  pecuniary  success  of  the  journal. 

Almost  all  the  leading  morning  and  evening  dailies 
are  located  in  large  buildings  in  and  near  Printing- 
House  Square,  as  the  triangular  place  on  the  east  side 
of  the  City  Hall  Park  at  the  north  end  of  Park  row- 
is  called.  In  the  centre  of  the  open  space  is  a  bronze 
statue  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  erected  by  the  printers 
of  New  York ;  and  around  the  so-called  square  are  a 
number  of  restaurants  and  drinking  saloons,  which 
are  kept  open  all  night,  and  are  patronized  principally 
by  newspaper  men,  printers,  and  kindred  spirits. 

The  salaries  paid  by  the  city  journals  are  not  high. 
The  leading  editors,  and  the  more  prominent  men  on 
the  various  dailies,  are  paid  from  $3,000  to  $12,000  a 
year ;  but,  considering  the  amount  and  the  character 
of  the  work  done,  the  pay  is  not  large.  As  the  most 
of  these  are  married  men,  and  the  cost  of  living  in 
the  Metropolis  is  high,  newspaper  men,  even  with 
large  salaries,  rarely  have  an  opportunity  to  put 
by  much  for  a  rainy  day.  The  large  salaries-  are 
very  few  in  number,  however — scarcely  half  a  dozen 
in  the  whole  city — and  the  majority  of  newspaper  men 
work  hard  on  very  small  wages.  As  a  rule  they  die 
poor,  though  the  proprietors  of  the  journals  which 
they  have  helped  to  make  successful  usually  win 
large  fortunes. 

At  the  head  of  the  city  dailies,  as  well  as  of,  the 
American  press,  stands  the  New  York  Herald,  It  is 
the  weakhiest  and  most  prosperous  journal  in  the 
country,  and  is  the  private  property  of  Mr.  James 
Gordon  Bennett,  who  was  carefully  trained  by  liis 


596 


NEW  YORK. 


father,  the  founder  of  the  paper,  as  his  successor. 
The  story  of  The  Herald  is  familiar  to  every  reader, 
and  we  need  not  repeat  it  here.  It  is  a  noble  monu- 
ment to  the  energy,  enterprise,  and  ability  of  its  foun- 
der. The  Herald  office  is  a  magnificent  structure  of 
white  marble  at  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Ann 
street,  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  locations  in  the  ^  i 
city.  The  cellars  are  occupied  by  the  press-rooms, 
which  are  connected  with  the  composing-rooms  by 
elevators,  by  means  of  which  the  forms  "  are  carried 
between  the  two  extremes  of  the  building.  Three 
costly  Hoe  presses,  of  the  latest  patent,  are  kept 
running  from  midnight  until  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  working  off  the  daily  edition.  Every  me- 
chanical appliance  that  ingenious  experts  can  suggest, 
and  abundant  means  procure,  is  furnished  by  the  lib- 
eral proprietor,  so  that  the  means  to  spread  The  Her- 
ald far  and  wide  shall  be  the  best  in  the  world.  The 
.business  offices  occupy  the  street  floor,  which  is 
raised  about  two  feet  above  the  sidewalk,  and  these 
are  fitted  up  in  elegant  style,  and  are  connected  with 
the  editorial  and  composing  rooms  by  winding  stair- 
ways^ of  iron,  speaking  tubes,  and  slides,  through 
which  small  boxes  travel  up  and  down.  The  edi- 
torial rooms  are  on  the  second  and  third  floors,  and 
are  the  most  uncomfortable  in  the  building.  They  are 
dark  and  badly  ventilated.  The  best  lighted  front  on 
Broadway,  and  are  occupied  by  Mr.  Bennett,  the  man- 
aging editor,  the  editor  in  charge,  and  The  Heralds 
secretary.  On  the  same  side  of  the  building  is  the 
Council  room,"  a  long,  narrow  apartment,  in  which 
are  a  desk  for  the  chief  editorial  writer,  a  type  writer, 


THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD. 


597 


and  a  long  table,  at  which  the  council  of  editors  assem- 
ble at  a  stated  hour  each  day  to  discuss  the  subjects 
to  be  treated  of  in  the  next  day's  paper.  The  com- 
posing rooms  are  under  the  Mansard  roof,  and  con- 
tain every  appliance  for  the  prompt  dispatch  of  the 
work  of  the  establishment,  and  a  small  army  of  com- 
positors. 

Mr.  Bennett  is  in  every  sense  the  manager  of 
The  Herald.  He  is  not  a  writer,  but  he  is  an  excel- 
lent business  man,  a  good  listener,  a  quick  decider, 
and  a  firm  supporter  of  those  who  serve  him  well. 
To  him  is  due  the  credit  of  nearly  all  the  great  suc- 
cesses of  the  paper.  He  conceived  and  put  in  execu- 
tion the  Stanley  expedition,  and  almost  all  the  great 
undertakings  which  have  made  The  Herald  the  rep- 
resentative of  American  journalism.  He  orders  the 
lengthy  telegrams  from  abroad — the  interviews  with 
leading  statesmen,  journalists,  and  prominent  actors 
in  European  affairs.  He  spends  much  of  his  time  in 
Europe,  but  never  loses  his  grip  upon  the  manage- 
ment of  The  Herald,  with  which  he  is  in  constant 
communication  by  telegraph.  When  at  home  his  eye 
is  upon  every  department  of  the  paper,  and  there  is  a 
general  shaking  up  throughout  the  office. 

During  Mr.  Bennett's  absence  he  is  represented  by 
the  managing  editor,  Mr.  Thomas  Connery,  one  of  the 
most  competent  newspaper  men  in  the  Metropolis. 

The  circulation  of  The  Herald  is  about  60,000  dur- 
ing the  week,  and  50,000  on  Sunday.  Its  advertising 
business  is  immense,  and  its  Sunday  issue  is  a  quin- 
tuple sheet,  with  from  fifty-five  to  sixty  columns  of 
bona  fide  advertisements.    It  is  worth  a  fortune  to  its 


598 


NEW  YORK. 


owner  every  year,  and  can  count  upon  the  most  mag^ 
nificent  future  of  any  journal  in  America. 

The  Tribune  is  located  in  one  of  the  loftiest  build- 
ings in  the  city,  at  the  corner  of  Nassau  and  Spruce 
streets,  and  fronts  upon  Printing-House  Square.  The 
building  is  of  brick,  was  erected  at  a  cost  of  $600,000, 
and  is  surmounted  by  a  lofty  tower  with  an  illumi- 
nated clock,  which  makes  it  one  of  the  landmarks  of 
the  great  city.  The  history  of  The  Tribune  has  been 
an  eventful  one.  Founded  by  Horace  Greeley,  it  was, 
until  his  misfortunes  came  upon  him,  the  most  power- 
ful Republican  journal  in  the  land.  After  Mr.  Gree- 
ley's death,  he  was  succeeded  in  the  chief  editorship 
by  Whitelaw  Reid,  and  great  changes  were  made  in 
the  paper,  the  new  building  was  erected,  the  stock  of 
the  association  passed  into  new  hands,  and  finally  Mr. 
Reid  became  the  nominal  owner  of  a  majority  of  the 
shares.  It  is  well  known,  however,  that  the  real  owner 
is  Jay  Gould,  and  this  knowledge  has  greatly  weak- 
ened the  popular  confidence  in  the  financial  articles 
of  the  paper,  which  were  once  one  of  its  chief  sources 
of  strength. 

The  Tribune  is  owned  by  an  association,  and  repre- 
sents property  worth  over  $1,000,000.  Between  1865 
and  1878  it  cleared  a  profit  of  $1,637,000,  which  was 
paid  out  in  dividends,  or  invested  in  property.  Its 
profits  average  about  $100,000  a  yean  and  have^done 
so  for  some  years  past.  The  offices  of  the  journal  are 
the  most  elegant  in  New  York,  the  rooms  being  large, 
airy,  and  well  lighted,  and  fitted  up  with  every  com- 
fort and  convenience.  The  managing  editor,  Mr, 
Whitelaw  Reid,  is  also  the  publisher  of  the  paper. 


THE  TIMES,  WORLD  AND  SUN. 


599 


He  is  one  of  the  most  accomplished  newspaper  men 
in  the  country,  a  thorough  business  man,  and  a  rigid 
disciplinarian.  The  daily  circulation  of  the  paper  is 
about  35,000,  the  semi-weekly  edition  circulates 
20,000,  and  the  weekly  about  75,000  copies.  During 
Horace  Greeley's  life  the  circulation  of  the  weekly 
was  more  than  double  the  above  number. 

The  Times  occupies  a  handsome  building  at  the  in- 
tersection of  Park  Row  and  Nassau  street,  and  stands 
opposite  The  Tribune,  It  is  the  leading  Republican 
journal  of  New  York,  and  w^as  founded  by  the  late 
Henry  J.  Raymond,  under  whom  it  pursued  a  brilliant 
career.  After  Mr.  Raymond's  death  it  encountered 
severe  trials  at  the  hands  of  incompetent  men,  but 
finally  the  majority  of  the  stock  passed  into  the  hands 
of  Mr.  George  Jones,  and  he  assumed  the  business 
management  of  the  paper.  Under  him  it  has  been  a 
great  success.  Its  present  circulation  is  about  35,000 
copies  on  week  days,  and  40,000  on  Sunday.  Its 
annual  profits  are  about  ^200,000. 

The  World  is  the  leading  Democratic  daily,  and  has 
comfortable  quarters  in  Park  Row,  just  out  of  Print- 
ing-House  Square.  It  is  said  to  be  controlled  by  Jay 
Gould,  and  its  course  in  financial  matters  gives  strong 
grounds  for  believing  this  assertion.  Its  circulation 
is  estimated  at  from  15,000  to  30,000. 

The  Sun  claims  to  be  the  organ  of  the  working  peo- 
ple, and  is  independent  in  tone.  It  is  a  four-page 
paper,  closely  printed,  and  a  model  of  condensation 
of  news  and  general  information.  It  is  ably  edited, 
and  is  one  of  the  brightest  and  most  sparkling  journals 
in  the  country.    The  editor-in-chief,  and  its  principal 


600 


NEW  YORK. 


owner,  is  Charles  A.  Dana,  one  of  the  veteran  journal- 
ists of  the  Metropolis.  The  paper  was  founded  by  the 
late  Moses  Y.  Beach,  about  thirt^  years  ago,  but  never 
achieved  any  reputation,  and  finally  became  so  offen- 
sive that  it  was  regarded  as  a  nuisance.  It  was  read 
only  by  sewing  and  servant  girls  and  small  advertisers, 
and  was  rapidly  going  down  hill.  In  1868  an  associa- 
tion, headed  by  Mr.  Dana,  bought  the  paper  and 
placed  it  under  the  charge  of  that  gentleman.  Mr. 
Dana  at  once  elevated  the  tone  of  the  journal,  infused 
new  life  into  it,  employed  an  able  corps  of  assistants, 
and  soon  made  the  new  Sun  one  of  the  most  popular 
and  best  paying  journals  in  the  city.    It  now  occupies 

a  handsome  building  in 
Printing-House  Square, 
at  the  corner  of  Frank- 
fort street,  and  has  the 
largest  circulation  of 
any  city  daily,  an  aver- 
age of  130,000  copies 
being  sold  every  day. 
Its  profits  since  1869 
have  run  from  $99,000 
to  $164,000  (in  1876) 
yearly.  The  Weekly 
Sun  has  also  a  tre- 
mendous circulation. 

The  evening  papers 
have  large  circulations, 
and  are  very  profitable. 
The  principal  are  The  Post,  The  Express,  The  Mail, 
The  Telegram,  and  The  Graphic.     The  Post  is  re- 


THB  EVENING  MAIL  BUILDING. 


THE  EVENING  PAPERS. 


601 


garded  as  the  "solidest"  evening  paper  in  the  Me- 
tropolis. It  is  read  largely  by  cultivated  persons,  and 
its  book  notices  and  reviews  are  considered  the  best 
of  those  of  any  city  journal.  The  Express  is  the  or- 
gan of  John  Kelly,  who  is  its  principal  owner.  The 
Mail  is  owned  by  Cyrus  W.  Feld,  the  originator  of 
the  Atlantic  Telegraph,  is  a  bright,  pleasant  paper, 
and  is  much  liked.  The  Telegram  is  owned  by  James 
Gordon  Bennett,  and  may  be  regarded  as  an  evening 
edition  of  The  Herald.  It  is  published  in  the  same 
building.  It  has  the  largest  circulation  of  any  of  the 
evening  journals,  is  ably  edited,  and  is  a  thoroughly 
good  newspaper.  Its  local  reports  are  a  specialty. 
The  Graphic  is  the  only  illustrated  daily  in  the  world, 
and  is  the  property  of  a  stock  company.  It  is  doing 
well,  and  enjoys  a  large  popularity,  because  of  its 
illustrations  of  current  events. 

The  weekly  press  embraces  the  prominent  religious, 
Yiterary,  scientific,  art,  and  mechanical  journals' of  the 
country.  These  are  fairly  prosperous  as  a  rule,  and 
are  scattered  broadcast  throughout  the  land. 

The  magazines  are  numerous,  and  are  devoted  to  all 
subjects.  Harper's  and  The  Century,  formerly  Scrib- 
ners,  stand  at  the  head  of  the  list  of  literary  journals. 


f.r 


I 
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